


Connective comfort

by WinteryFall



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Past Traumatic Experiences, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, recovering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 18:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13642176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinteryFall/pseuds/WinteryFall
Summary: Steve Rogers, a PTSD suffering veteran is trying to recover from his experiences, when he meets a fellow sufferer/former soldier who doesn't seem to like him that much at first.Overtime however, Steve manages to get past his cold crack and comes to the conclusion that its easier to deal with your burdens when you get to share them with somebody who understands you.





	1. mutual suspicion

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was looking trough my fic-storage so to say, and found this originally intended to be one-shot of a story that was near complete. I still didn't quite reach the end like I must have originally planned, but I came to the conclusion that what I had was good enough to post here; the slight open-endedness of this story currently honestly fits to the narrative in my eyes.
> 
> Maybe I'll make a sequel someday to continue this story, but for now I hope you enjoy what I have written so far.

Steve wasn't sure how he felt about the group sessions; it was clearly helping some of his peers, to have people who shared similar experiences to talk with, but he had never been a talker.

Steve Rogers was not the type to...share his inner troubles to people like this.

Sam had coaxed him to at least try it, but so far, after three sessions the blond still hadn't opened up exactly. He wasn't the only one though. Amongst the group, there was another man who kept quiet. A man who had caught Steve's attention the moment he'd first joined the sessions a month ago. The blond did not really intend to be that intrigued at the beginning, but there were just so many...peculiar things about him that made the man stand out from the rest of the therapy group, aside from his silence that is.

He always sat to the left from Steve, and always wore this blank, near emotionless expression that clearly unnerved others.

He usually sat with his arms crossed, staring near unblinking at whoever was talking, and he never took his black jacket off or the glove he wore on his left hand. It was a little bizarre, given how warm it would probably get for him.

His long brown hair usually hang around his face slightly unkempt, almost if he was trying to hide behind it.

On top of all that, Steve felt like he'd _seen_ this man before somewhere, relating to something he'd seen on TV once, but the blond could not put his finger on it.

Steve was honestly wondering if it was a good idea to have him there, as it was clear he was making the rest shifty and nervous.

Then, the blond slaps himself mentally, it was none of his business really.

Maybe this _did_ help the man, and he just wasn't good at showing it yet.

Maybe he just happened to have a slightly intimidating face, that would not be his fault.

Suddenly, the brunet tilts his head lightly to the side, and turns his piercing blue eyes at him. Steve quickly shoves his gaze aside, realizing that he must've been staring - again. The brunet had never before reacted to his hesitant glances and curiosity, always keeping his gaze at the person talking, but it seemed that he'd finally caught on and it annoyed him.

"James? Is something wrong?"

Sam's voice makes everybody look at the brunet, who slowly tilts his head back how it was, and shakes it.

"M'good."

His voice was surprisingly soft for somebody who looked as tough as he did.

Sam glances between them for a moment, then sighs and gestures the lady to continue her story. Once the session is over, Steve watches the group to leave, before Sam catches up with him.

"Still not willing to open up a bit, huh?"

There was no scolding in Sam's tone.

He if anyone knew it would take time from some people to open up, so he never really expected it from Steve.

"I don't know Sam. I just...they all have gone trough personal hell, I don't want to add to it." The blond mutters rubbing his neck awkwardly.

The man huffs and rolls his eyes at Steve.

"Always the self-sacrificing one, Rogers, huh? Listen dude, that's not how they see it."

"I know, I just..."

the blond sighs and leans against the wall, rubbing his eyes.

Talking about his ordeal just wasn't something that came naturally. He'd always been, I guess one could say humble, about his problems.

"Look, if this ain't working just say so. I'm not forcing you to attend."

Steve was about to reply, when a cold chill traveled down his spine.

They heard footsteps heading their way, and as the blond looks up, he finds the chill-eyed brunet walking to them. Sam turns his attention to the man, frowning a bit concerned.

"Something wrong?" He repeats his question from before and the brunet glances at Steve once, making the man's blood freeze in his veins, before turning his attention back to their mutual therapist of sorts.

"Why's he attending?"

The soft, monotonous voice breaks the silence, and the man nods at Steve.

The blond instantly feels like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, even if the man's voice bore no judgment or disdain.

"Same reason as everybody." Sam points out with a lift eyebrow.

"Never says anything."

"Dude, neither do you." Sam points out, but the brunet just stares at him blankly.

Jesus, what the hell happened to make this man's stare so cold?

None of the other attendees had a thousand-year-stare _this_ bad.

"I told you. Don't like people staring at me."

Now, the slight annoyance was evident in the man's tone as he looks at Steve again.

"Uh..."

Before Steve could even apologize though, the man turns on his heels and heads out without a word. For a moment he just watches after the brunet, until Sam's sighing voice makes him direct his gaze away.

"Sorry about that; so _that's_ why he was giving you the mean eye."

There was a hint of humor in Sam's tone that Steve could not really understand.

"Barnes has always been.... iffy about people looking at him like that. One of the reasons he's hesitant to step up and talk."

Steve just nods, knowing Sam wasn't probably allowed to tell him why exactly the man hated that.

"I was kind of hoping that getting him comfortable with people in these sessions would ease it, but he's hard to get to."

"Hardest case you ever had?"

Sam snorts and shakes his head. "I'm not gonna rank my patients like that. All I'm saying is that he's stubborn like you."

Steve could not stop but smile a bit apologizing. His companion just pats his shoulder encouragingly.

"You should head home too Steve, before the weather gets too difficult for your bike."

Glancing out, it was indeed getting dark and it would probably rain soon.

 

 

Steve was doing his routine visit to a small local cafeteria nearby his street, chatting with a friend of his who worked there.

"You should really get out more; you look like a lost puppy the second you step outside of the house." Natasha scolds him gently, and winks as Steve rolls his eyes at her.

"I am out right now."

"You know what I mean."

The woman huffs, then excuses herself to go and greet the new customer who came in. For Steve's surprise, it's the brunet from their meetings. He offers a slight half-smile at Natasha's chirpy one, and sits down at the furthest corner of the small cafe.

He was still covered in black mostly, only exception being the red shirt underneath his black jacket.

His hair was in a ponytail under the cap he wore, and he looked about as tired as usual. After Natasha brings the man his drink - simple coffee - she walks back to Steve to continue their conversation. Normally she'd be too busy, but right now there weren't that many customers in the shop, so the woman was able to socialize more.

"As I was saying; you should try and relax, do something fun."

"I like running."

The woman gives him a dramatic sigh and shakes her head.

"That is _not_ the definition of fun for most people."

"Well you always say I am unlike any person you've ever met."

Natasha cannot stop but laugh; Steve was right about that one.

She then sits down on the free chair across from Steve, giving him a pointed look.

"I mean, have fun with people. You could come to the club with me sometime."

Steve chuckles at her playful wink.

"I'm pretty sure you'd want me there just to make other girls jealous - or ward of annoying drunks."

"I can make others jealous without anyone's help, and I kick ass too, Rogers."

Natasha reminds him with a mock-pouting tone. It was true, Natasha was much tougher than she looked like, having practiced martial arts and a bit of kick-boxing as a hobby for a while. You wouldn't have guessed it from her slender frame, but she was really good at knocking you senseless with one hit to the face, you just needed to know where to hit.

"In all seriousness though; you should come with me tonight."

She offers a gentler smile, and Steve understood why she was coaxing him like that. Natasha was worried how Steve had been a near-hermit ever since he came back home.

He just... did not feel like talking to people. Not many could probably understand or be forgiving of his struggle with even the most basic socializing at times.

"I don't want to embarrass you." He says truthfully, gaining an eye roll from the woman.

"Trust me, your clumsiness is mainly _adorable_ ; like a puppy who's learning to stand for the first time."

The blond rolls his eyes at that.

As more customers appear, Natasha gets up, and gives him a pointed look.

"Tonight, at eight o'clock. I will pick you up and I will not hear any complaints, understood?"

Steve sighs, but nods.

"Yes ma'am."

With that, Natasha leaves to attend to the young couple that had just entered. Steve watches her for a while, then realizes that somebody was watching him. As he turns, he realizes that the brunet's eyes were focused on him. There was strange suspicion in his gaze, and as he notices Steve was looking back, the man quickly turns his attention away, finishing his coffee and leaving a tip before heading out.

The blond just stares after him, baffled about the strange look the man had given.

"What's wrong?"

Steve nearly jumps as he hears Natasha's voice from next to him suddenly, and turns to look at the woman. She looks up, out from the window at the figure quickly vanishing into the crowd on the street.

"You know him?"

She then asks, and Steve rubs his head awkwardly.

"Not exactly; he's part of the therapy group Sam put me in, but he never really talks."

The red head sighs and brushes trough her hair with a frown.

"Makes sense he'd be in it. It was pretty clear to me he was some sort of soldier, given his frame."

"He comes here often?"

The woman shrugs, crossing her arms.

"Every now and then; he always sits on the dark corner and orders either black coffee or a hot chocolate. When he orders the sweet stuff he's usually on a better mood. I could tell the second he ordered coffee the guy's got a _bad_ day."

Steve hums, looking back at the window. The brunet had already vanished from sight.

"He doesn't usually leave this quickly though. Normally he sits in that corner for an hour or so, sunken in thought or something."

Steve doesn't say anything to that.

 

 

 

Natasha had not lied; she'd showed up at Steve's door exactly at eight, and forced him to change into a bit better looking clothes - a dark blue jacket and a white shirt - before they headed out to the club.

Steve did not really enjoy it; too hot, too many people and noise, but he didn't want to let his friend down.

She was just trying to help him get out of his shell.

The woman chatted happily with other people while they sat at the bar - it seemed that she knew the two women from before - while Steve just drank his whiskey quietly. Some of the women around did give him curious looks, but seemed to assume Natasha was his girlfriend or something so didn't approach. He was honestly glad about that, not really knowing how to talk with women.

A trait Natasha loved to tease him about.

"Would you look at that?"

One of the women Natasha had been talking to - a black haired woman named Maria if Steve recalled right - suddenly comments, and all three ladies turn to look towards a newcomer who'd just entered.

As Steve glances towards the man, his eyes widen in surprise.

It was the brunet again.

Except, he was different from how he usually was.

Most of the timidness was gone, his shoulders were more relaxed, and he was walking across the club with a confident swagger. His long hair was combed back neatly, and the leather jacket he usually kept tightly closed now hanged open, revealing the barely covered strong frame beneath the black shirt he wore.

He still had a glove on his left hand though; that was the only familiar detail Steve could pick from the man.

It was clear to Steve that Natasha's girl club wasn't the only heads the man turned, as quite a few club-goers checked him out as he slipped down to a chair at the end of the counter. The young redhead girl who was currently serving paused for a second, clearly a little flustered, then quickly hurries to serve him. Steve watches the man interact with the blushing lady, taken aback at how different he suddenly was.

He gave the woman a charming smile, and Steve half expected the poor girl to topple over given how red she went.

"We definitely got a player here, girls."

Maria comments again, gaining a giggle from the other two. Steve just shifts uncomfortably in his seat, feeling a little out of place. Another reason why he was uncomfortable was the fact he found it hard to look away from the brunet.

It wasn't just the complete change in attitude that had caught him off-guard.

The girl brings the man his drink, and gains another one of those heart-melting smiles, making her smile back shyly in response. They talk for a bit, but Steve cannot hear the words due to the loud music surrounding them.

"Dolores should be careful; guys like him tend to be bad news."

Natasha hums, though based on the fit of laughter she gains, it did not seem like they were actually concerned, rather just teasing.

Steve knew from experience that if this redhead saw a man causing trouble to somebody, she'd most likely intervene.

Really, it was rather stunning to see a woman of her stature to deck a man twice her size with ease, or at least it was stunning to those who'd never seen it before. For Steve, he would not be expecting anything less from Natasha.

"Oh you know her, Nat; she always falls for the bad boy."

"Maybe we should not talk about this too much; looking at your friend, it looks like he's about ready to go and protect poor Dot from the evil seducer."

The blond woman with them suddenly comments, and Steve feels his face heat up, turning his face away from the brunet.

"Steve, it's okay. You don't need to worry about her."

Natasha nudges his shoulder with a gentle tone. She generally had good intuition on people; if Natasha said somebody most likely didn't have sinister intentions, she was probably right.

That wasn't the reason he'd been staring, but it was the explanation he allowed them to believe.

After a moment, the redhead excuses herself as she visits the bathroom, getting up and leaving Steve alone with her two friends

"Say, you were in the military?" Maria suddenly asks, and after a moment of hesitation, Steve nods.

"I see...that explains your frame."

She says with a cheerful smile and a wink, and Steve just smiles back, unsure on what to say to that.

"I suppose we should apologize for Nat dragging you here, you look like you'd rather be anywhere else." The blond woman comments sympathetic.

Steve just shrugs, rubbing his neck. "It's not too bad."

"Hey, maybe we should go dancing, maybe that'll cheer you up!" Maria suddenly proposes, and Steve near splutters his drink, then coughs to recompose himself.

"I have two left feet."

"Then let me lead, I'm pretty great." Maria states, getting up from her chair.

"I might break your foot."

The black haired woman sighs dramatically and drags Steve to the dance-floor, full of people and bright lights.

As expected, Steve manages to step on her toes quite a few times, bumping into people awkwardly.

Eventually, the blond manages to excuse himself to slip out from the back-door, leaning against the wall to cover his face and just breathe for a moment. The heat, and the narrow space between people of the dance floor reminded him too much of his experiences, and his breathing had picked up pace now.

Steve just remains there quiet, eyes closed and leaning his head against the cool wall, finding it strangely comforting. He could hear the door open and somebody step outside, probably to smoke. Then, Steve felt a familiar chill on his spine, and as he opens his eyes to look, he finds the brunet standing on the doorway, still holding it open, eyes fixated on Steve.

He seemed equally surprised to see him, then his expression shifts back into that of suspicion.

Before either of them could speak however, a woman appears and grasps the brunet's arm, cooing at him.

She seemed to be a bit tipsy given her expression.

"Come on James; you promised me a dance!" The woman giggles, clinging onto the man's arm.

For a moment the brunet just stares at Steve with a cold look, then slowly turns it away, giving a smile to the woman.

"I was gonna catch some fresh air before the night gets too heated sweetheart."

Now that Steve could hear it, his voice shattered some of the illusion he'd given earlier with his confidence.

The flirty tone was somewhat _forced_ , although Steve wasn't sure if it was because of whatever earlier hostility had been, or if it had always been like this.

"Oh, I would not mind that at all."

The woman coos at him again, tugging the man back inside.

Steve watches them go, quite a few questions in his head. Namely, why the hell did the man always seem so hostile when their eyes met?

Also, he was a little concerned for the drunk girl, given how clear-headed the brunet seemed to be.Sure, Natasha had said it was okay, but...

After a moment of hesitation, Steve walks back in, and Natasha immediately rushes at him, concern in her face.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Steve! I should've told them not to do that." She apologizes to him multiple times, probably having figured out that Steve's disappearance meant some sort of anxiety-attack or so.

The blond man shakes his head, giving her a reassuring smile.

"It's okay. I just got a lil dizzy that all."

He glances around, noting that the brunet was indeed dancing with the girl who'd latched to his arm.

He was... good.

Again, there was a conflict of info in Steve's head. The man he knew from the meetings was very tense and seemed uncomfortable with himself, but you had to be comfortable in your skin to dance like that. Unless he was just really good at pretending.

He'd been staring for a while probably, given that Natasha suddenly snaps her fingers in front of Steve's face, startling him awake from his trance.

"Are you having flashbacks? Should you go home?"

She asks concerned, cupping his cheek.

Steve pauses, then shakes his head.

"No, I'm good."

Natasha was clearly skeptical, and looks at him with a frown, searching for a hint of a lie. After a moment however she sighs and shakes her head.

"Just tell me the second you feel woozy, alright?"

Once they return to their seats, the two girls look at Steve apologizing, but he just shakes his head.

"You didn't know." He says simply.

As the music quiets down into a slow song, Steve glances at the pair dancing; the girl was looking up at the brunet with such an amazed expression, clearly as impressed by his dancing skill as Steve had been. The brunet just kept offering her that slight half-smile, the same one he'd given to the girl on the counter. As Steve looked more closely once they swayed closer however, he could tell the smile was somewhat fake too.

His eyes were also _empty_ in a way, which was unnerving.

The blond knew that Natasha had said the man probably was no trouble, but for once Steve wasn't convinced.

The girl was obviously drunk, and he seemed clear-headed. It was alarming.

After a while, the pair heads towards the door, and Steve hesitates for a moment, glancing at Natasha who was chatting with her friends.

"I...I think I'm gonna go for now." He comments suddenly, and all Natasha could manage was an agreeing nod with a concerned frown, before Steve stands up and heads out of the door.

He wasn't sure why he felt the need to do this.

Well, he knew actually: Steve had always had this heroic nag to him, wanting to defend the weak and so. One of the reasons he'd joined the army, though nowadays he was a little disillusioned with it.

For his slight relief, he notes that the duo were walking instead of going off with a car.

In fact, they were walking towards _his_ home so he had a more logical reason to be heading in the same direction if asked.

Steve was a little hesitant still, though; he wasn't sure if he should be doing this, it wasn't really his business.

After letting them walk far enough to reach an intersection, Steve finally makes his decision and walks after them, keeping enough distance so he would not be noticed. The blond wasn't sure what exactly he was gonna do. Should he go and reach for them before they made it to the girl's - or his - home? Honestly, this whole thing was crazy; he was assuming that the man had sinister intentions, but Steve could not help himself.

One thing he'd always been bad at was controlling his impulses.

After a while of walking, the pair finally reach a small apartment complex, probably the woman's home as she searches for her keys, leaning heavily against her companion due to her drunken state. For a moment, Steve pondered if he should make himself known, but what the brunet says next makes him stop on his tracks.

"T'was a nice evening. I'll have to go now though; got business tomorrow."

The woman looks up at him with a pouty look.

"And I thought you wanted to come inside."

Steve had a feeling that comment was meant to be double-minded given her tone, but the brunet just snorts, giving her a nearly stern look.

"Not when yer this drunk. I did not pick you up for that. I did it so some leech would not attach itself to you."

The woman blinks, clearly trying hard to process his words but finding it tricky due to the buzz in her head. The brunet sighs and pecks her forehead.

"You're a fine gal n' all, but I'm not up for that tonight. Especially not when you're this drunk."

For a moment the woman just looks at him, and then gives him a wide, sloppy smile.

"You're the biggest sweetheart I've ever met!"

She declares and gives a sloppy kiss to his cheek. The man just hums and helps her to open her door and get inside.

"Am I going to see you again sometime?"

The woman asks as she leans against the doorway, looking at the brunet with a hopeful look. The man gives her a smile, but Steve could tell it was strained.

"I don't know. Maybe."

She gives him a blow kiss, before closing the door. The brunet sighs and rubs his eyes, walking back to the street.

That's when he notices Steve, standing further away under a street light.

For a moment they just stare at each other, and then the brunet huffs, giving him that same cold look before hurrying away, disappearing into the nightly streets.

For once, Steve felt like he deserved that look.


	2. clearing the air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve learns more things about Bucky and it helps removing the hostility coming off from the brunet towards him

It was the middle of the night when Steve woke up, heaving from a dream that liked to raise its ugly head every now and then.

Steve sighs and sits up, curling his arms around his knees as he just breathes, trying to calm his raging heart.

Eventually, the man gets up and grabs himself a glass of water from the kitchen. As he drinks it, the man gazes out from the window into the empty street outside. It was three in the morning, so there were no souls present.

Except, he spots a figure walking towards his apartment block a moment later, and as the figure comes into light, Steve recognizes the brunet.

He was just pacing forward, hands in his pockets, clearly sunken in his thoughts.

The blond had never seen him around there, and could not stop but wonder why it was the case now.

Sure, the girl he'd picked up lived nearby, but Steve doubted the man had been walking around for this many hours around this area. Then, he suddenly stops and looks up; just sort of gazing towards the building Steve was in.

The brunet did not seem to be particularly aware of anybody looking back, given his glazed stare.

He was probably gazing into nothingness and happened to aim his eyes towards Steve's apartment complex he lived in.

Suddenly his eyes sharpen, and Steve abruptly realizes the brunet was looking straight at him.

The blond did not know how, but somehow he could see the blond man standing by his window. Slowly, he lifts his gloved left hand and signs something at Steve.

Being in the military, sign language was one of those things he'd learned, so the message became clear fairly soon.

 

_Stop staring at me._

 

Steve swallows down now a little nervously, and backs away from the window.

He just stands there, in the middle of his kitchen for a good while, before cautiously sneaking back at the window, finding the street empty now.

Steve wasn't certain why he felt so nervous; the man - James wasn't it? - was intimidating sure, but he had never really done anything that warranted this slight uneasy feeling in his gut.

Hell, if anything what he'd witnessed with the woman spoke of the man's good-hearted nature.

Perhaps it was his sixth sense working overtime again, as ever since he'd come back, Steve had noticed a habit of constantly judging whenever somebody was a threat, and something about James just screamed of danger.

Part of Steve wondered if the man had suddenly shown up around here specifically to...

No, it made no sense.

There was no way James knew where he lived.

Even if he did, why would he bother doing something like that in the middle of the night?

How would he even know Steve would be awake and watching?

Steve sighs and shakes his head. He was indeed being paranoid. The man scrambles back to the bedroom, trying to catch some sleep.

 

 

The weather was really cold that morning, but Steve went for his morning run as per usual, not really deterred by the chilly air. There were barely any people in the park, and the few who were glanced at him probably wondering how the hell he could run in this near freezing weather. Steve didn't mind it; cool air kept his thoughts clearer, and he could just focus on running instead of the demons lurking inside his head.

Eventually he has to stop to catch his breath, and the man leans against the tree, looking around a bit in the park.

Now that he was no longer moving, the cold seeped trough his blue sports-jacket, making him shiver lightly.

As he kept gazing the surroundings, Steve suddenly spots a familiar figure standing further away, leaning against the edge of the bridge that crossed the slightly frozen river that ran trough the park.

It was the brunet, he was seemingly sunken deep in his thought again.

Steve takes a step forward, then stops himself abruptly, questioning what he was doing.

Part of the man wanted to ask what James had been doing around his house late at night, but for all he knew, the man had just been on a walk.

Some people did go for a walk at night as there were less people around.

Even if he'd had some other, specific reasons, it was none of his business.

Suddenly, the brunet looks up and their eyes meet, making Steve freeze in his place. The man looks surprised for a moment, before his face turns into that cold stare. He paces towards Steve, mannerism reminiscent of some sort of predator, and the blond had no idea how to react to the situation right now.

"You _following_ me?"

He demands, voice low and suspicious.

Steve pauses, blinking confused at his question.

Before he could voice anything out however, Bucky shoves him against the tree, managing to lock all of his muscle-mass in place with his own bodyweight and firm grip on Steve's collar.

"Answer me! What the hell were you doing, stalking me an' the lady around?"

The man near hisses at Steve, face just an inch away from his.

The blond could feel his hot breath brush against him, he could see the steam coming from it mix with his own puffs coming out between his lips, and Steve was both alarmed and nervous in multiple levels right now. Technically he could have pushed the man off with ease, but he was too startled by James' behavior to do so.

"I just...wanted to make sure she'd be okay. She seemed really out of it."

He finally manages to stutter out.

The brunet remains quiet, just examining his face for any sign of deceit. Finally, the brunet sighs irritated, letting go of him and stepping back.

"I swear. Why does _everybody_ think I'm up to no good?"

He mutters rubbing his arm, glancing around. Steve fixes his jacket collar a bit, unsure on what to do or say right now. Before he can utter out a word, the man turns on his heels and hurries away.

 

 

 

"I don't blame him for getting testy at you about that. It's kind of shitty to make assumptions like that." Sam points out; they were sitting on his trailer home, drinking beer.

Steve had called Sam and asked if he could come and chat about something, to which the man had agreed on. Given the man wasn't really an official psychiatrist per say, he didn't mind talking with Steve outside the sessions.

"Yeah, but that's not all. He's always so...hostile towards me the second he sees me."

Sam hums at that, drinking his drink a bit as he considers what to say next.

"Maybe you remind him of somebody he doesn't like."

Steve lifts eyebrow, looking at Sam. He wasn't sure if that was a theory or if the man knew something. Sam just holds his hands up in the air as if guessing what Steve was thinking.

"I cannot really tell you much as you know; all I'm saying it would be the most logical reason for his behavior."

The blond man sighs and rubs his eyes. He wasn't sure why he felt so bothered about all of this.

He did not know the brunet, he had no reason to be so fixated on this. Perhaps it was just his stubborn nature; he did not want to let it go until he knew exactly what about him rubbed the brunet the wrong way.

"Maybe in the next group meeting, you should ask him directly what it is."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Sam hums and flashes a smile at him.

"If I've learned one thing about James Barnes, it's that he's honest. He may not talk much, but his words tend to spell the truth."

Steve wasn't sure how to feel about that, given how easily the man had worn a mask back at the club, charming quite a few women, maybe even men. But, he probably would not lose anything if he tried; Steve knew all too well he would not stop thinking about this until he got answers.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you don't like it that he seems to dislike you."

Steve huffs at Sam's teasing tone, drinking a gulp from his beer.

"If somebody's got a problem with me, I want to know why."

Wilson just hums, not adding anything to that.

 

 

There was a hitch in Steve's plan; the Brunet - James Steve reminded himself - didn't show up this time. Even Sam seemed a little concerned about it, glancing at the empty seat near Steve.

Once the session ended, Steve found the man trying to reach James by phone.

"It's weird; usually he tells me beforehand if he cancels."

Sam muses once he closes the phone, clearly concerned.

"Do you know where he lives?"

Steve asks, then wants to slap himself. Most likely Sam did. The man nods after a moment, and glances at Steve hesitantly.

"...I wanna go check on him. I hope this is not what I think it is."

He pauses, then looks at Steve, as if trying to decide on something.

"I might need some help."

Steve frowns at that, but says nothing, just follows Sam to his car.

 

It turns out, James did not live that far from Steve, which somewhat explained why he'd been around the blond man's house the other night.

Sam checks the parking area, noting that the man's bike was still there. It did not mean he'd be home necessarily, but at least he likely hadn't gone too far. They enter the building, and Sam walks to the second floor, reaching the furthest door at the corridor with the number 7 on it.

He knocks, calling out for James, but gets no reply.

"Perhaps he's not home."

Steve muses after a moment, but Sam just presses his ear against the door.

"No, he's home. I can hear the TV. Barnes _never_ leaves it on if he leaves."

Steve frowns at that, suddenly feeling that the situation might be a lot more serious than he initially thought. Sam knocks again, but gains no response. With a frown, he pulls out a key, which makes Steve lift eyebrow at him.

"As his support person, I got a key to the apartment in case...well, we will see."

Steve did not like Sam's words one bit.

They enter the apartment, and Steve notes it was _much_ messier than his.

Clearly James was not one for keeping his house in order.

Sam calls out for the man again, but there's no response. Then, Steve spots something peeking from behind the couch; a hand that seemed to be covered in something red. He pales and tugs at Sam, who immediately rushes to check on the man. There was a broken glass on the ground near him alongside a stain on the carpet, indicating he'd been drinking something while watching TV when this had happened, making him drop his drink and stumble to the floor, cutting his hand to the glass shards.

James was lying on the floor curled on his side, face completely white.

His eyes were unusually gray, staring into nothingness like his mind had drifted away, but that was not what caught Steve's attention.

It was his left arm which the man was clutching against his body.

James was bare chested now, and the blond finally saw what the leather glove usually concealed.

James' entire left arm was _metal._

Covered in fine metal plating overlapping on top of each other intricately, Steve had never seen a prosthetic like that.

"James, can you hear me?"

Sam had crouched beside the man, waving a hand in front of the blue eyes staring ahead numbly.

"W-what's wrong with him?" Steve managed to stutter out, still looking at the arm.

"....He does this sometimes. Spaces out to the floor, just staring at something."

Sam sighs, still trying to get the man's attention.

"What should we do?" Steve asks, finally tearing his eyes away from the artificial limb to look at Sam.

"Well, we should probably patch his hand for one."

Sam tries to carefully get the numb man off the floor, but the brunet's body recoils, curling tighter to himself.

"Come on Barnes; it's me, you can relax."

Sam talks to him calmly, but the brunet just stares ahead, clearly too deep in his mind to hear it. After a moment of hesitation, Steve crouches down in front of him, trying to gain eye-contact.

"Come back, whatever happened, you're safe. You're in your own house right now. Sam is here too, he wants to help you."

The blond kept his voice calm following Sam's example, and after a moment, the brunet suddenly gasps for air and rolls on his back, rubbing his eyes with the metallic fingers as he breathes in shakily.

"Come on now, let's get you off the floor."

Sam coaxes him calmly, tugging the man off the floor and making him sit to the couch.

The man was holding his bleeding hand, looking at it dully, as if not quite registering the fact it was bleeding.

"Mind to fetch the first aid kit? It's on the white cabinet above the sink."

Steve goes without a word, and comes back with the said kit, watching as Sam cleans and ties up James' injured hand. Eventually, the brunet seems to come around properly, and looks up at Steve confused. At least he wasn't hostile right now, probably too exhausted from whatever had happened to do so.

"Why is...?"

"He wanted to ask you something, but since you did not show up like expected we got worried."

Sam explains, and the brunet glances at him, blue eyes wide. He was clearly still in the process of climbing back to awareness given how confused he seemed. Then, as he glances at his metallic limb, the man seems to realize something and grabs his arm almost defensively, glaring at Steve. The hostility was back again, worse than ever.

" _Told you_ to stop staring!"

Steve doesn't know how to respond, but luckily he doesn't have to, as Sam coughs, gaining James' attention.

"Steve would like to know why."

"It's bloody rude."

_"Barnes."_

Sam scolds him gently, and the brunet sighs irritated, rubbing his eyes. He takes another deep breath to fully stabilize his body.

"I just...don't like it when people look at me like that." He grunts, avoiding Steve's eyes.

"Like how?"

"Like there's somethin' wrong with me."

Steve bites his lip; he could understand this feeling.

"I'm sure Steve did not mean it that way."

The brunet snorts, glaring at the blond.

"Yeah, sure. Mr. white-knight in shining armor here immediately rushed to save the poor maiden from the evil one-armed bandit who was just helpin' her to get home without getting mugged or something!"

Steve looks down, rubbing his neck awkwardly and muttering out an apology.

"Not to mention he's stalking me."

The brunet growls, and Sam looks up at Steve with lift eyebrow.

"Okay, look; the cafeteria and the park were coincidences. Hell, even the club was as Natasha dragged me there. I did not intend on going originally!" Steve snaps back at the man irritated.

He could take the blame for the drunk girl incident, making assumptions like that had been rude, but everything else was just the brunet being paranoid for no reason.

The brunet just glares at him, still clearly suspicious.

Sam sighs finally, breaking the silence.

"James...I think you might be letting your paranoia influence your thinking right now."

The man voices out the exact thoughts Steve had, though in a much gentler manner Steve would have voiced them out. The brunet turns to look at Sam, his expression shifting into something more uncertain.

"Steve is a nice guy; I've known him for a while. I doubt he'd stalk you."

The brunet gazes at Sam, then at Steve, before moving his gaze down to his hands, rubbing his eyes with the flesh fingers, before flinching a bit as the wound hurt.

"This is not the first time he's had this problem." Sam explains to Steve quietly, a hand rubbing James' back whose breathing had gone shaky again.

"He's been blaming people for following him before?"

Steve asks, trying to not sound condescending or anything, as it was clear this was an actual issue the man was suffering from.

"Yeah. If he sees one person more than once around the places he goes to that he usually doesn't see, he gets ...suspicious."

Steve bites his lip, not knowing what to say to that.

"M'sorry..." the brunet whispers softly from beneath his palms, having hidden his face away now.

He sounded embarrassed, which Steve could understand.

"It's okay. I mean, given the fact we both are under Sam's care, it's pretty clear we have problems to deal with."

Steve offers gently, but the brunet says nothing, just slumps his arms against his knees with a deep sigh, staring at the floor.

"So uh...perhaps you should head home, yeah? I'll take care of Barnes for now."

Sam comments after a moment of silence, and Steve hods hesitantly, a bit concerned for the brunet. But, he was no psychiatrist, this was none of his business. The brunet was clearly a bit ashamed of his behavior right now, and Steve being there probably made him feel worse.

"Right. I live nearby anyway."

 

 

 

"So it was some sort of trauma-caused reaction?"

Natasha concludes after listening to Steve's explanation about the events that had transpired yesterday. They were at the cafeteria again, and Natasha was currently having her lunch-break, choosing to come and chat with Steve while eating her lunch.

"Yeah. I don't think he meant to get so hostile or suspicious, he just couldn't help it."

The woman hums, eating her yogurt.

"Well, glad that mystery is solved."

She concludes with a smile, putting the now empty carton into the trashcan nearby. Steve hums with a nod, but there was a frown in his face. After he'd witnessed the blank-stare state from the man, he couldn't help but worry a little now. Steve had had those moments himself, but they'd never been this bad.

Plus... he was still curious about the arm.

"You're hopeless."

The woman sighs, clearly being able to tell Steve's curiosity and questions were not fulfilled yet. The man gives him a sheepish laugh.

The woman then glances at the clock, and gets up, tidying herself a bit.

"Well, I better go as my shift continues soon. Finish your coffee before it gets cold."

She winks and heads back at the counter. Steve glances at his coffee which was probably lukewarm already. He sighs and drinks it anyway, not wanting to waste what he'd paid for.

Then, he could sense somebody walk towards him, and as he looks up, he finds James standing beside him, this time having a much milder expression to his face. If anything, he seemed a little uneasy, ready to bolt at any second.

"....Can I sit down?"

He asks after a moment, and Steve just nods, giving him a slight smile. The man slumps down at the chair Natasha had sat on. He was wearing the same outfit like last time he'd been in the cafe, black jacket, red shirt and a cap.

"If you are still going to apologize..."

"No. Well, _yes_ , but that's not all..."

James was avoiding his eyes, clearly nervous about something.

He was clenching his left fist - the one with a glove covering the metal arm.

"It's okay. Like I said, we both have issues to deal with." Steve smiles at him, and the man hums with a light nod.

"I just...I don't know. You kept staring at me in those meetings. It was _weird_."

Steve felt his face heat up a little, and he rubs his neck with an awkward smile.

"Didn't mean to."

"I felt like you were judging me for something; it was hella uncomfortable to sit there."

"I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I was just curious, that's all."

James gives him a pointed look, whose meaning Steve understood immediately.

"I admit; I did judge you a little at the club, but I'm glad I was proven wrong." Steve manages to chuckle a bit, shifting slightly in his chair.

Now he was the one embarrassed.

"I guess...we both fucked up."

James finally concludes, punching a genuine laugh out of Steve.

"Yeah, we did."

For a moment they sit there quiet, making Steve feel more and more restless as time passed. Finally though, the brunet breaks the silence.

"You run trough the park every day?"

Steve is a little surprised by the question, but then nods a bit.

"Funny I never saw you there before."

"Well....I usually do my run earlier than that."

The brunet huffs and stares at him like he's crazy. Steve didn't blame him; a lot of people would have reacted the same way, given the clock had been around six thirty in the morning by the time they met.

"I suppose it's a coincidence galore then. Normally I'm not up that early either. I just...couldn't sleep again."

Steve hums, and part of him wants to ask about that one night the brunet had lingered near his house, but he wasn't sure how to ask about it.

"...You know James, if you have trouble sleeping, you could come running with me. It actually helps clearing your head a lot."

Steve offers tentatively after a moment, not really knowing why he did so. James looks at him quiet for a long time, long enough to make the blond man nervous, then he finally sighs and nods.

"Sam keeps tellin' me I should do stuff like that. I just never felt motivated on my own."

"Yeah, you should listen to Sam more, he's got good advice."

"I'm a stubborn sonofabitch."

The brunet remarks, and Steve nearly blurts out 'language' before catching himself. James was an adult man, he did not need the blonde policing his speech.

"Alright, so, if you ever feel up to it, I'm usually around the spot in the park where you yelled at my face."

The brunet actually smirks a little, and the smile was reminiscent of the charming flirtatious ones he'd given to the girls at the club, just that this one was more genuine. It made Steve's heart flutter, but he kept it to himself.

"I keep that in mind."

He gets up to leave, but then suddenly pauses and turns to look at Steve with a frown.

"Also...don't call me James. It's kind of formal."

Steve lifts eyebrow at that, and the man shrugs, glancing at Natasha who was looking in their direction.

"My friends used ta call me Bucky."

Steve blinks, then nods slowly.

"Okay, so...Bucky."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> Glad we got that sorted out.  
> This is probably the fluffiest fic I've written so far.  
> I'm posting all the chapters at once as this one is done pretty much.


	3. the arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve learns the story behind Bucky's unusual prosthetic and has a troublesome dream.

For the next few weeks, Bucky occasionally joined Steve for his runs.

The man had a really good stamina which did not surprise Steve given his frame, but what he found surprising was the complete shift in the man's attitude.

He was no longer hostile towards him at all.

Sure, he was still a bit reserved and did not open up about himself too much, but at least he no longer threw icy daggers at Steve with his eyes. As time passed however, the blond could not stop his curiosity from growing, and he finally spills out his question, after they'd finished their morning run that day, currently sitting under a tree to catch their breaths and drink some water.

"What happened to your arm?"

The brunet tenses instantly and glances at the said arm, his unease making Steve regret his words instantly.

For a moment they both were quiet, then Bucky sighs, slowly capping his water and lowering the bottle to the ground.

He was gazing into the distance now, a look that Steve knew meant he was recalling a memory or so.

"Was on a mission. A roadside bomb."

Steve just nods a bit; he'd dealt with something similar, though it had been a missile instead of a bomb, and he'd survived with all of his limbs attached.

Rest of his team hadn't been so lucky.

The blond shakes his head, forcing the memory away for now.

"I got chosen to this special program; they were making these extra special prosthetics for vets."

He removes the glove he wore slowly, gazing at the metallic palm as he flexes the fingers.

"They're real good, except that they're also a bit too tough."

Steve lifts eyebrow at that, and Bucky sighs, leaning back and wrapping his arms around his legs, curling up slightly.

"Y'see, the original creator who made mine got into bit of a hot water, so his rival got the rights on manufacturing these things. Unfortunately his versions had glitches and caused people to accidentally hurt their close ones."

Steve frowns at that, the story felt familiar...

"Did...did that happen to you?"

Bucky hums, and then shakes his head.

"Mine's the _original_ , the very first prototype made by the original creator. It's not Hammer-tech so it works near perfectly, but most people don't know that."

Steve's eyes widen as he stares at the brunet.

Suddenly he realized why Bucky looked so familiar.

"You...you're that one soldier who gave a testimony in support of Stark five years ago regarding to that huge scandal that happened."

Bucky just nods, refusing to look at Steve.

"They tried ta' blame it on Stark's programming, claiming it was his original blueprints that were to blame and not the faulty adjustments made by Hammer-tech. With my arm we managed to prove 'em wrong and stop the bastard from selling his faulty shit."

Okay, that explained a lot. But then...

"....Wouldn't people know you're the original then? The one with a working limb since you were on TV..."

The brunet laughs bitterly, glancing at him.

"People don't wanna take risks. The second they see my arm, they back away."

Steve could tell from his tone that Bucky did not like it. He did not like the fact people were afraid of his arm. The man looks at him sympathetic, but doesn't really know what to say. The brunet sighs and gets up, stretching a bit.

"C'mon. We can go another round. Unless you're tired already?"

There's a hint of a challenge in the man's voice and he smirks, making Steve huff and scramble up.

He never backed down from a challenge.

 

 

By the time they were done, the two men were sweaty enough to warrant a shower.

Since Steve lived closer by, he allowed Bucky to use his.

While he waited for the brunet to be finished, the blond grasps two beer cans from his fridge. He'd gone first despite insisting that Bucky should as a guest; the brunet had just told him he'd take longer anyway due to his long hair and arm, so Steve had relented. Hearing the shower door open, Steve turns around, only to have his thoughts halt instantly.

Sure, he'd seen Bucky bare-chested earlier, but he hadn't exactly _looked_ at the man.

He was now.

The brunet was drying his hair absent-minded, not really looking at Steve, who was again gaping at him in a manner that would probably make the man uncomfortable once he noticed.

There was no way around it; he was handsome.

Even the arm and the scarred attachment point to his body only added to his rugged good looks, and Steve found himself near forgetting how to breathe.

Once the brunet turns his attention to the man with a lift eyebrow however, Steve snaps out of it and quickly offers him a can of beer.

After a second, Bucky grasps it, still looking at Steve warily.

At least he wasn't hostile anymore, but he did tug on his shirt fairly quickly.

It did not really cover his arm though as it was short-sleeved, but at least it covered the attachment around his shoulder.

"Sorry." Steve mumbles out after a moment of awkward silence, but Bucky shakes his head.

"People stare at it. I'm used to it. I don't like it, but I'm used to it."

Steve almost wanted to tell him it wasn't just the arm he'd been looking at, but chooses not to, instead he sits down to the couch with his drink, and after a moment the brunet follows his example.

They just sit there quiet, probably not really knowing what to do next. They'd ran together before, but Bucky had not come to his house before this moment. It wasn't even that they hadn't gotten sweaty during their runs before, Steve had just never really offered Bucky to use his shower instead of having to walk the extra twenty minutes to his house.

In fact, he'd expected Bucky to decline when he'd proposed it, but the man had just hummed and nodded.

"You got a nice place."

The brunet finally comments, drinking his beer.

"It works. Nat says it's boringly minimalistic."

"That too, but all the extra stuff would just get in the way, especially given your huge size."

Steve had to chuckle at that.

"Yeah; I'm kind of clumsy too sometimes, so it's _safer_ like this."

Bucky flashes him a light smile, then turns his attention back at the drink in his hand.

"....I kind of want to ask you something."

Steve states out tentatively after a moment, and the brunet hums questioning, but doesn't turn his head.

"....That one night. Why were you....how did you spot me?"

The man remains quiet, then sighs and drinks for a bit, before lowering the can again.

"Couldn't sleep so I went for a walk. I got a sixth sense when it comes to people looking at me."

"....Did you know it was me? I mean, my lights were out..."

The brunet glances at him, then gives him a half-smile.

"Kind of. I've seen you around so I knew you live in this complex."

Steve turns his gaze away, having nothing to say to that.

"You gonna continue the group sessions still?" Bucky suddenly asks, and Steve frowns a bit as he thinks about it.

"I don't know...I don't think it helps me to be honest. I just..." the blond sighs and rubs his eyes, gaining a sympathetic look from Bucky.

"Yeah. Been thinking of dropping it too. Going there makes me too anxious."

Steve lifts eyebrow at that.

"I wanted to try, because running away from a problem doesn't make it go away, but I'm starting to think that this particular approach ain't for me."

"Then there's two of us." Steve huffs with a sad smile.

"Yeah. I mean....the whole reason why I was..."

Bucky pauses and swallows down hardly.

He puts the drink away for a moment to rub his eyes, then leans back, head resting on top of the backrest so that he was gazing at the ceiling.

"I was just nervous about going. I mean, my paranoia was already driving me up to the walls crazy, and then knowing I'd have to go there and deal with..."

Bucky pauses suddenly, and turns to look at Steve. Before the blond could voice out the obvious apology he was going to make, the brunet shakes his head.

"Not your fault. Like Sam mentioned, I have a habit of getting paranoid. T'was my own fault for feeding on it n' triggering the attack."

Steve shakes his head, and tentatively reaches an arm out to gently squeeze his human shoulder.

" _None_ of it is your fault; we cannot help how our minds work right now, we are trying to piece things back together and it takes time."

Bucky hums, glancing at the hand on his shoulder, then looking back at Steve while not lifting his head off the backrest.

"....I suppose that's true."

He eventually whispers softly, turning his gaze at the ceiling again.

The man closes his eyes and seems to sort of just relax there for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths. Steve spends this quiet moment examining his profile. He almost wants to reach out and trace that strong jawline with his fingers, but restrains himself knowing how weird that kind of gesture would be. It was weird for him alone to want to do it.

Eventually, Bucky's eyes open and he lifts his head off from the backrest, brushing trough his hair to push the strands away from his face.

"....I should get going."

He finally says and gets up, reaching for his jacket. Steve just nods, a little disappointed. He was not to stop the man if he wanted to leave though.

"See you around, Rogers." Bucky flashes a smile at him, before he's out of the door.

The blond watches after him for a long time, before turning his attention to the half-empty beer can the man had left behind. The blond sighs and picks it up, drinking it down as well since there was no point for him to waste what he paid for again.

 

That night, Steve had a strange dream.

 

_He was at the club again, with Natasha and the two women._

_Bucky was there too, except this time he was not flirting with the female bartender. Bucky came to him instead, asking him for a dance. The brunet looked close to the same as he had at the bar, except he was not hiding the metal arm so much anymore; there was no glove on his hand, and the jacket was loosely on him, showcasing some of his shoulders, including the metallic one._

_Steve allows the man to drag him to the dance-floor, almost if in trance._

_All he could focus on was those blue eyes on him, full of mischief and temptation._

_Once they were in the crowd, Bucky shifts closer, pressing his body against Steve as they swayed to the music. It almost felt like he was either drunk or high; all the blond could really focus on was the brunet._

_He could not really register anything else around them, not the lights, the crowd, the music that blared in your ears._

_All Steve heard was the heartbeat under the brunet's skin, the breath that brushed over his shoulder as Bucky leaned closer, nose brushing against his jaw._

_There was a mis-matched pair of hands on Steve's hips now, making him shiver and eventually gasp as the brunet tugged their hips firmly together, making Steve feel the hardness pressing against him._

_"N' I thought you had two left feet."_

_The brunet purrs into his ear, nipping it lightly._

_He swings away from Steve for a moment, then spins back, now pressing his back against the blond's chest, arms crossed over his lower belly as he still held onto Steve's arms. Bucky turns his head to slowly brush his lips against Steve's jaw, still swaying to the music and basically rutting himself against Steve, making the man's whole body flare up with want._

_"Come on now; show me what you got."_

 

 

 

Steve sat up in the middle of the night, holding his head. It was five twenty in the morning, and the first bits of sunrise were coloring the sky reddish outside.

The blond noted to his horror - and guilt - that his dream had aroused him slightly, and it still hadn't quite settled down, as Steve could feel the stiffness between his legs.

With a huff, the man scrambles off the bed, figuring there was no point in going back to sleep as he would have gotten up soon anyway.

He puts the coffee on and goes to wash his face in the bathroom, trying to somehow cool his uncomfortably hot body. Steve did not know what to think about his dream.

Once the coffee is done, he pours himself a cup and watches the sun rise slowly from his window.

The warm, red and orange colors the sky took during sunrises and sunset always awed Steve with their beauty, but even that was not enough to drive his mind away from the unusual dream. Steve glances at the clock after a while; it was only half six now.

The blond man wasn’t sure if the brunet would be there once he went for his morning run.

Sometimes he was, but usually Bucky joined in later, around seven or eight. Steve wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it today.

He wasn’t sure if he could face the man right now.

So, instead of heading out like he’d usually do, the blond remained home, taking a cold shower first to further distance himself from the dream, and then makes himself a heavy breakfast.

He hadn’t done that in a while, so it was a nice change of pace.

However, around eight, there was a knock on his door. Once Steve opens it, he’s face to face with the very man he’d wanted to avoid today. Bucky looks at him with a slight concerned frown.

”You didn’t show up, so I thought of checking if you got sick or something.”

Steve just shakes his head, suddenly at a loss of words. His eyes stubbornly want to drift at Bucky’s lips, recalling how soft they’d felt against his skin in the dream.

”....Can I come in?”

Steve abruptly realizes they’d been standing there in awkward silence for a long time, and coughs, moving aside to let him in.

It would have been odd from him to turn Bucky down given he clearly wasn’t sick right now. The man notes the leftovers of Steve’s bacon and eggs breakfast, as well as the obvious sign he hadn’t even intended to go out given how his usual jogging outfit was still nearly folded on a chair.

”I didn’t feel like running today.”

The blond muses out an explanation, rubbing his head.

Technically, he did not have to explain himself to Bucky, but given how they’d been running together almost ever morning now, Steve felt he needed to offer at least some form of reason to his unusual absence. Bucky hums a bit, brushing trough his gorgeous long hair. It was a bit messy, and now that Steve looks at Bucky more closely, he suddenly realizes how pale and exhausted the man was, and the initial shame from his dream is replaced by worry.

”You okay?”

He asks, cautiously reaching for the brunet, who turns to face him, rubbing his metallic wrist.

It was one of his nervous ticks the man did when something bothered him, Steve had learned this during their....I suppose it could be called friendship.

Steve pulls his hand away quickly as he notes the slight uneasy look Bucky gives to it, and for a moment they both stand there silent.

”I...” Bucky begins, licking his lips now, and Steve mentally kicks himself to not shiver at the sight.

”I kinda wanted to talk to you.”

A silent panic settled in Steve’s head; right now he did not want to spend time with Bucky, not when he was still struggling with the mental images of his dream and the reactions he had, but he also could not bring himself to turn down the desperate plea in Bucky’s eyes.

”Well you could have called Sam, I mean...isn’t he the one you’d usually talk with?”

The brunet turns his gaze aside and nods, rubbing his metal arm beneath the jacket sleeve.

”.....I’d rather talk with you.”

He finally admits softly, making Steve’s stomach flutter and twist nervously.

”Why?”

The man blurts out before he can stop himself. Bucky shifts his weight, seemingly as nervous as Steve.

”I just...I don’t know.”

He finally sighs, clearly thinking that maybe this was a bad idea after all. As he moves to head back out from the door however, Steve grasps his shoulder before he can stop himself.

”Hey, its fine; I mean. I don’t mind chatting with you myself.”

He manages to smile, hoping that his nervousness wouldn’t seep into his tone too much. The blue eyes gaze at him quiet for a moment, but eventually the tenseness leaves Bucky’s shoulders, and he sighs, tugging off his jacket. That’s when Steve notes the shirt he wore was sleeveless. It was unusual as normally Bucky covered his arm with long-sleeved ones.

”Doesn’t fit under this jacket.”

Bucky explains it as he puts the outdoor clothing aside and paces to Steve’s couch, slumping down on it.

”Coffee?” Steve asks; he still had some on the pot and since he hadn’t turned the maker off...

”Sure.”

Without a word, Steve brings him a cup and after a moment of hesitation, slips down to sit beside Bucky, while still leaving space between them.

”What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

The brunet hums, drinking a bit of the warm drink, before letting out a heavy sigh.

”I had a pretty shit night.”

”A flashback or so?”

The brunet nods, gazing into the distance.

”You know....ever since I began doing this jogging routine with you, my nightmares have eased up on me, but last night...”

the man lets out a shuddering sigh and rubs his eyes with his free hand.

Steve just reaches out to rub his back cautiously, in a comforting manner. Bucky doesn’t shy away from the touch which made Steve much more glad than he wanted to admit.

”It was bad. I was really lookin’ forward to running with you today because of it.”

The blond felt guilt tug in his gut now, but before he can apologize, Bucky gives him a pointed look.

”It’s fine. You don’t have to, and should not, revolve your schedule around me. You have your own inner demons to deal with.”

Steve knew Bucky was right, but he still couldn’t stop feeling guilty.

”...What was the dream about?”

Steve asks tentatively after a moment of silence, and Bucky’s gaze goes distant again as he stares ahead.

”....T’was the moment I lost my arm.”

The quiet, hollow tone was enough information for Steve; he did not have to know the details. The cold, haunted voice that twisted Bucky’s normally soft and warm vocals into something numb and chilly gave out more than words ever could. He soon notes the brunet is shaking, and coaxes Bucky to let go of the coffee mug in his hand, worrying that the firm clutch the metallic fingers had would break it and spill hot coffee on the man.

Steve places the cup on the coffee table and just rubs the brunet’s back as he leans forward and presses his head against the glass surface of the table, just breathing deeply for a few moments.

”You ever get this shaky?” He mumbles out after a while.

”Used to; now I’m a bit better.” Steve admits with an equally quiet words.

The brunet hums at that, and Steve could see a smile dance on his lips.

”Glad one of us is.”

Eventually Bucky manages to calm down enough and raises himself slowly, having a bit of a dazed look at first in his blue eyes as he glances around. In fact, he looked like he wanted to fall asleep.

”You really did not sleep much last night, did you?”

Steve asks concerned, spreading his palm against Bucky’s back to support him somewhat as the man sways lightly.

”Yeah...I could do with a nap...” the man mutters rubbing his eyes.

Steve glances at the clock, noting that it was now twenty past eight. He’d have the group meeting with Sam at nine.

”....I don’t think you can go to the meeting today.”

”Probably not no.”

Bucky hums with a chuckle, then yawns, leaning back against the couch, head tilted at the top of it.

”Shoulda call Sam about it...but m’phone’s at home...”

His words started to slur, and Steve had a feeling the man would fall asleep right on his couch soon if Steve did not kick him out. There was no way he would do that though.

”Well...I guess you can stay and nap here. I’m going today anyway, so I can inform Sam about it so he won’t worry.”

Bucky tilts his head towards Steve, eyes sleepy

”Ya sure t’s okay for me to hog your couch?”

”Yeah. I mean, I doubt you could walk home in your condition anyway.”

The brunet chuckles a bit, then yawns again. Without a word, Steve stands up and lets Bucky lie down, even propping some pillows for the man so he could be more comfortable. After that, the blond releases a slow sigh and goes to change clothes to head out.

 

Sam was not surprised to find out Bucky wasn’t coming that day.

He wasn’t even surprised to hear where the man was now, which in turn surprised Steve.

”He’s been talking about you a lot; saying how chatting and jogging with you helps a lot.”

The man comments casually, giving Steve a slight smile.

”Well, I suppose that’s good to hear.”

The blond mumbles rubbing his neck awkwardly. There was a teasing tone beneath Sam’s voice, although it was barely noticeable.

”So how about you?” Wilson suddenly asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the door-frame.

Steve blinks, taken aback by the question.

”Does hanging out with Barnes help you?”

Steve turns his gaze aside for a moment to think about it.

If he was honest...it _did._

Aside from the embarrassing dream he’d had, Steve had been sleeping fairly well recently, which was a good sign.

”I....guess so?”

The man rubs his neck again, unsure on what else to say.

”Good. It’s a surprising twist given how he initially was towards you.”

Steve couldn’t stop but chuckle as he recalled the coldness Bucky had aimed towards him at first.

”Glad that got settled.” He admits, then glances at the clock.

He’d stayed chatting with Sam for extra half-an-hour now, he should probably get going.

”See you later Steve.”

Sam waves him goodbye as the man heads out.

 

 

Once Steve gets back home, Bucky was surprisingly still asleep, lying on his side, human hand sneaked under his pillow. One of his legs hang over the couch edge, and after a moment of Steve observing him, the sleeping man rolls to his back, now dropping the arm towards the floor as well. It was almost cute, the way his hair was messed up, how he snored lightly and seemed almost comfortable.

Eventually though, the serenity is replaced by a frown spreading across Bucky’s features, and he curls up suddenly, facing the back of the couch, as a slight whimper escapes his lips.

Steve frowns with concern and slips to sit down beside Bucky, gently shaking him to try and wake the man up from whatever nightmare he was now seeing. The brunet doesn’t respond, just curls up tighter with another one of those scared whimpers escaping his lips.

”Bucky?”

Steve calls out his name softly, squeezing the man’s shoulder again to try and get him to snap out of it.

The next thing he knew, the brunet smacks him square in the jaw with an almost angry howl, and Steve finds himself pinned to the couch with metallic fingers grasping his throat, while the flesh hand hovers over his head in a fist.

Bucky’s eyes were sharp, his breathing was fast, and he snarls at Steve, clearly not quite there.

_”Bu....Bucky...”_

Steve coughs out, trying to pry the arm’s grip off him.

Jesus, that thing was _**powerful.**_

After a few seconds, the brunet’s gaze clears, and the second he realizes what he’s doing, the man backs away with widened eyes, and curls up to himself, hugging his knees while muttering out an apology.

Steve coughs a bit, rubbing his neck as he sits up; there were bruising marks on his skin now, but Steve was more concerned about the shaking man than his own state.

”Bucky?”

”S-sorry...” The man mutters out again, glancing at Steve.

”That thing sure packs a punch.” The man comments, still rubbing his neck.

Bucky watched at the bruising his arm had caused with a guilty expression.

”It’s....stronger than average arm.”

”Yeah, given the metal coating.”

The blond could tell Bucky was incredibly upset right now, for jumping at him like that.

”Hey, it’s okay.” He offers gently, but the brunet shakes his head firmly.

”I could’ve broken your neck or something...”

His tone was hollow as he gazes at his metallic limb, now looking like it was some sort of dangerous animal that attached itself on him.

”....If it’s that dangerous, why don’t you replace it with a regular prosthetic?”

Bucky snorts at that, tone bittersweet.

”Would you switch back from a perfectly working car to a piece of junk that constantly breaks on the way?”

Steve partially understood what he meant; from what the man had witnessed, Bucky’s limb was incredibly precise and pretty much as good as a normal arm, sans a proper sense of touch and heat.

”Plus I can’t afford it; the surgery was excessive enough when I got it. I doubt Stark has time to waste another couple o’ millions to replace my arm with a shittier model. Hell, he probably would not do it out of principle.”

That was also a valid point.

Steve sighs and brushes trough his short hair, taking in a deep breath and then flinching as it actually hurt a bit. His throat felt sore.

”Sorry.” Bucky says again as he sees Steve flinching, and the blond man feels bad in turn for making Bucky feel worse involuntarily.

”It’s okay as I said; I should not have come so close when you were having a vivid nightmare.”

Steve offers the man a smile, but Bucky just stares at him with that guilty look, eyes fixated on the bruises in his neck.

The blond sighs and gets up, informing the man that he was going to make some food as he doubted Bucky had eaten yet.

The brunet just nods without a word.

It’s nothing special, Steve just re-heats the leftovers of his bacon and eggs breakfast for Bucky, who eats them in silence. Steve hates the tenseness that had settled around the man, it reminded him too much of the beginning of their friendship.

”Really, I’m okay.” Steve tries to reassure him yet again, but the man just hums, saying nothing to him.

Steve sighs as he puts the kettle on for another cup of coffee. He pours Bucky one too once he’s done, and the man doesn’t protest, despite having already drank one before he went to sleep.

They sit there in silence again, and Steve wants to ask him about the nightmare, but cannot bring himself to do it.

”They were made for military purposes.”

Steve looks up, having not expected Bucky to say anything. The brunet keeps his gaze in his coffee cup, and his voice was low and soft, almost if he was afraid to raise his voice.

”The artificial limbs. They were supposed to enhance the soldiers who were given ones to replace their lost ones, make them better in their job. At least, that’s what the original plan was. After Stark made mine and realized that there’s no way in hell I could go back there anyway due to my traumas, he shut down the whole project. You should not send mentally and emotionally disturbed people back to the battlefield.”

Steve lifts eyebrow at that.

”I thought it was because of the glitch within the arms themselves that shut it down.”

”Nah. Tony realizing the bullshit the officers were trying to pull resulted in him being casted aside and Hammer stepping in. Once the glitches started, they tried to use Tony as a scapegoat.”

Steve just nods at that.

Then, he fully realizes the implications of Bucky’s words.

”Wait...so that thing is like...a weapon?”

The brunet hums and brings the metallic palm up to his eye-level, gazing at the reflective surface.

”Yes. Tony was supposed to build this model a camouflage coating too so it would look like a normal arm, but once he realized giving these things to amputated soldiers was an excuse to send traumatized men back on the field, or perhaps cause unstable minds to do drastic things back home, he stopped the whole project.”

Steve whistles, not knowing how else to react to this; he’d only heard brief bits of the whole fiasco five years ago regarding to this, but he’d never known how shady it had actually been.

Then again; the scandal had pretty much started around the same time he’d come home, hence Steve barely recalled anything from it.

”Do you know how it feels to walk around like you’re a loaded gun?”

Bucky suddenly asks and turns to look at him, blue eyes weighed down with mental exhaustion.

”....Somewhat I suppose. I mean, I don’t got a metal arm sewn on me, but I can...I did lash out like that earlier.”

The blond rubs his head, unsure on how to talk about this.

Bucky just hums, still gazing at him as he drinks his coffee.

Steve suddenly felt shifty under the gaze of those blue eyes, and he gets up abruptly, excusing himself as if he needed to use the toilet.

Closing the door behind him, Steve slides to the floor, brushing his hand against the marks on his neck.

Initially, the whole situation had been rather awful, especially given how Bucky had reacted afterwards, but the knowledge that those marks on his neck were caused by Bucky...

it had something strange dance and twist around in his gut.

Steve brushed his neck again, noting his skin felt extra sensitive there right now, making him shudder lightly as his fingers brushed the area.

As he kept rubbing his neck, the dream from last night creeps up in his head again, and something twitched in his pants, making Steve shift uncomfortably, leaning his head back against the hard surface of the wooden door.

”Steve?”

The man nearly jumped off the floor as he heard the voice calling him from the other side. The blond scrambles up, feeling like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. It was silly given Bucky could not see him, but still.

”Yeah?”

”I uh...I gotta go now. Thanks for letting me rest here, and the food.”

”Welcome.”

After a moment of silence, Steve could hear footsteps heading away from the door, and eventually the front door to his apartment closes too, leaving the blond by himself again.

Somehow, he could not stop but feel a little disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just so you know, Tony wan't make a literal appearance in the story. he's only going to be talked about like this.  
> Maybe if I ever make a sequel, that's where Tony can hop on board in all his flashiness.


	4. unpleasant run-in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky run into the brunet's ex, and Steve learns yet another thing, another reason behind Bucky's uneasiness

For the next few days, Steve did not see Bucky.

It felt like the man was avoiding him again, spooked by his own actions.

The brunet no longer joined him for their jogs, or came to chat with him in general. He wasn’t even in their daily sessions anymore, which eased others but worried Steve. Sam said nothing regarding to the situation, probably not allowed to which the blond understood.

Still.

He felt kind of saddened by the situation. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault that he’d reacted the way he did.

Steve should have known better than to go so close when he was having a nightmare. He should have known based on the reaction Steve himself had sometimes when waking up. There wasn’t much he could do about this.

He had no clue where Bucky lived exactly, he had never even thought of asking the brunet’s number.

Now Steve really wished he had it.

”You look mopey.”

Natasha snaps him out of his thoughts; they were currently sitting in the club, as the woman had invited him there for the evening.

It was quieter than before, and this time they were alone, as Natasha’s friends had been too busy to join them.

”It’s nothing.” Steve gives her a reassuring smile, but it was obvious the redhead could see straight trough it.

The woman sighs and drinks her cocktail - a bloody Mary, Steve had no idea why she chose that one - before looking back at Steve with a pointed look.

”Something is bothering you Rogers, I know it.”

The blond sighs, and after a moment tells her what had happened. The woman listens calmly, her expression giving nothing away.

”I don’t know Nat; I wish he wouldn’t have hidden away again. I wasn’t angry to him about it.”

”It must’ve scared him pretty badly though; I mean, I saw the bruising despite you trying to hide it.” The woman confesses, brushing trough her hair.

”I didn’t ask anything as I thought you’d just gotten into a fight again or something.”

Steve hums and drinks his beverage in turn. It was his third or fourth glass, and his mind was buzzing from the alcohol somewhat.

His tolerance was pretty high though, so the man was nowhere near drunk yet.

”He must be very conscious of that arm given it’s original purpose; having something like that attached to you 24/7 must be draining to your mind.”

Steve had to agree with that.

They chat about other things for a bit, up until Natasha gets a call from one of her friends, who needed a ride apparently.

”Will you be alright?”

She asks as she stuffs the phone back into her bag, ready to head out. Steve just rolls his eyes at her.

”I’m not twelve.”

”If you were, you would not be allowed here.”

Natasha points out, gaining a laugh from Steve who waves her bye, before sinking back into his thoughts.

It doesn’t take long for the empty chair beside him to be filled, but instead of a random woman who got curious about him, Steve soon realizes the person sitting beside him was a man.

”Hey.”

The blond lifts his gaze, looking up at Bucky with surprise.

The man was wearing the same leather jacket get-up as last time he was here, but the aura surrounding him was less confident.

He was more like himself right now.

”Hey.”

Steve greets him, unable to respond with anything else. Bucky orders himself a rye Whiskey, before turning his attention back to Steve. His hair was again combed back neatly, though Steve could tell this time it was a rushed job, as some strands tried to escape and fluff up his sleeked hair.

”Sorry about not being around.”

Bucky mutters out once his drink comes, and Steve just stares at him, not knowing what to say. He eventually gathers his bearings, reassuring Bucky that it was okay.

”I cannot expect you to schedule your life around mine.”

The brunet hums with a smile, as that reminds him of the time he’d told something similar to Steve.

”I know; I just...”

”You got worried about what happened.”

Steve comments softly with an understanding tone. The brunet just nods, swallowing down hard before drinking from his glass. Perhaps it was the alcohol already in Steve’s system, but he found himself examining Bucky’s features more openly than usual; the blue eyes, the reddish, soft lips, the strong jawline. He was undeniably handsome, and it was clear a couple of girls agreed as he could see few glance at Bucky curious.

The brunet paid them no mind, he did not even say anything to the barmaid he’d flirted with last time, which clearly made the girl miffed.

Upon noticing the heavy look the man had however, she seemed to understand that Bucky was not on the mood for such thing right now, so the girl did not raise a halo over it.

”Are you okay?”

Steve asks after a moment of silence, and the brunet rubs his eyes with a sigh.

”Not really no. Kept thinking what could have happened. My arm got insane grip, I could’ve...”

Steve stops him by grasping his flesh shoulder, making the man look at him.

”Stop thinking in ’what if’ terms, you’ll only make things worse. Trust me I know from experience.”

Bucky just gazes at him for a while, and Steve could tell his eyes glanced at the now somewhat faded bruising on his neck.

Eventually the brunet looks away, drinking his whiskey again with a sigh. They remain quiet for the next few drinks Bucky downs, and the pace the man drank worried Steve a little, but he said nothing to it. Bucky was a grown man and allowed to drink himself stupid if he wished so. Perhaps he’d taken a few too many too, as Steve soon began to feel a bit light-headed. There was a change on the song, a slower one from before, and suddenly Steve realized Bucky had closed his eyes, listening to it and humming alongside the music.

”You know the song?”

”Yeah, ma loved this one. Used to play it from our radio all the time.”

Steve just nods with a slight smile, his gaze fixated on Bucky. The man was smiling lightly, and Steve could’ve watched that smile for ages. Suddenly, the brunet gets up from his chair and offers his hand to Steve.

”Wanna dance?”

The question catches Steve off guard again, and he coughs, his face fuming in several shades of red. The brunet chuckles a bit at that, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes

. ”Come on. Unless you think you might...”

Bucky pauses and now frowns a little concerned.

Steve blinks confused at first, then realizes what Bucky had meant.

”Oh no! No, I didn’t actually...I just didn’t like how packed it was then. I didn’t actually have a seizure or anything.”

He rushes to explain and gets up before he could stop himself.

Bucky gazes at him skeptic, but eventually offers his hand to Steve again. Normally, Steve would have had bunch of questions about this whole situation, but due to the alcohol in his system, Steve was unable to really ask those, so he just grasps Bucky’s hand, allowing the man to drag him to the dance-floor.

”Just so you know; I have two left feet.”

Steve warns him like he had Maria, and the man snorts, rolling his eyes.

”I’ll lead. Just follow me.”

Bucky, as Steve knew already, was an incredible dancer, and quite a few people glanced at their direction, clearly rather impressed by his skill.

Meanwhile Steve felt like a stumbling elephant in a china shop, but at least he hadn’t stepped on Bucky’s feet yet.

Once the song switched into something slower, the brunet tugs him closer, and Steve doesn’t resist at all as the man mingles their fingers together, metal hand gently resting on Steve’s shoulder now.

”That wasn’t too bad.” He whispers softly, giving Steve a light smile.

”Yes, your toes are still intact.”

”Yay.”

They both chuckle quietly, just swaying into the slow music, somewhat forgetting there were other people around them.

Eventually Bucky’s colder hand slips away from Steve’s waist, creeping up his shoulder, and then after a moment of hesitation, the cool fingers brush against his neck lightly, as if Bucky was afraid his arm would end up doing the Hammer-trick and gain a mind of it’s own.

Nothing happens however, and Steve just shivers lightly as he feels the touch.

His involuntary reaction makes Bucky glance up at his face, and the blond manages to smile at him, despite suddenly feeling a bit nervous in his own skin.

The brunet brushes the fingers against his neck again, tracing the outline of the faded mark a bit, and the blond trembles again under the touch, unable to stop himself. As their eyes meet again, there was something flickering in Bucky’s eyes, though Steve wasn’t sure what it was.

Then, the brunet suddenly leans closer, brushing his nose against Steve’s jaw, before following the edges of slightly darkened skin.

The blond freezes, stopping their swaying to the music, and once he feels the reddish lips brush lightly against his skin, the man drops both of his hands on Bucky’s hips now.

The brunet uses the opportunity to gently caress the other side of Steve’s neck with his now free flesh fingers, and the combination of delicate, feathery touches made the blond close his eyes and sigh in slight pleasure.

Upon sensing this, Bucky began to add pressure to each kiss, parting his lips and letting the tip of his tongue flicker against the now hyper-sensitive skin. Part of Steve wanted to ask what Bucky was doing, but other part of him just wanted to stand there and keep enjoying those slight touches of skin and lips Bucky was giving him. The metal hand had now gripped Steve’s shoulder, firm yet gentle hold, and before he knew it, the brunet had coaxed him away from the dance floor, against the wall near the emergency exit door Steve had gone out from last time to catch some air.

Once the blond’s back touched the wall, the brunet shifts a little, slipping his hands to to press against the wall on either side of Steve’s head, while he kept pressing his parted lips against the bruising on Steve’s neck, over and over.

The blond sighs again; his mind was buzzing, though not all of it was the alcohol clearly.

Eventually the soft lips began to trail up, following his jawline up to his ear, before coming back down, stopping at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky’s breath felt fire-hot against his skin now, and there were pleasant tingles running up and down Steve’s body, sensations he had not felt in such a long time.

”Feelin’ better?”

The brunet whispers softly, a light mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. He had to be at least somewhat drunk already to do that, right?

Steve tries to reply, but seems to have forgotten how words work.

Bucky chuckles at that as he moves away a bit to take a proper look at Steve.

The blond’s face was flushed, his eyes had gone a bit darker, and he found it hard not to look at Bucky’s lips. This was a lot like the dream, part of Steve thought dully, but he did not fully register that thought.

The brunet hums suddenly, and brushes his fingers over the bruise on Steve’s neck again.

”Still sore?”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure why Bucky was asking that, but he nods lightly, not even knowing why as it wasn’t really true; the aching had stopped already days ago.

There was something in the air that was making him follow the brunet’s lead right now.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or something else.

Bucky hums again and gently tugs him off the wall, bringing Steve to one of the empty lounges, making him sit on the couch.

”I might be able to help with that.”

The brunet mutters against his ear, brushing his lips against it and making Steve shiver, before straightening himself and heading out to get a drink. Steve just watches after him, his hands twitching nervously.

A tiny part in his brain was questioning what the hell was going on, but majority of his mind was too buzzed and curious to care.

Eventually Bucky comes back with another glass of whiskey, except this time it had ice-cubes on it. The blond watches silently as the brunet slips to sit on his lap, basically straddling him. He brushes his lips against Steve’s now, and the blond could taste the alcohol in his breath.

”This might sting a little at first.”

The brunet whispers almost gently, before turning his attention away from Steve, grasping his glass and drinking from it, taking one of the ice cubes into his mouth.

Steve could have probably guessed what he was plotting, but his mind was too preoccupied in admiring Bucky’s features in the dim lighting that once the ice presses against his skin the man cannot stop himself from yelping lightly.

Bucky uses his tongue to move the cube, sliding it across the faint marks on Steve’s neck, making the blond beneath shiver and breathe out a slight gasp.

His hands shift to grasp Bucky’s thighs now, and he tilts his head slightly to give the man more room. At times, the brunet slipped the quickly dwindling cube back into his mouth to press his now lightly chilled lips against Steve’s skin. Eventually the icy block was completely gone, just leaving the chilly touch of Bucky’s tongue dance around his skin, tracing a line up to his ear again.

”That better?”

He near purrs into Steve’s ear, who just turns his head to brush his nose against Bucky’s cheek, in search of his lips. The brunet snickers lightly and allows Steve to claim them. His mouth felt a little cold now, but Steve did not mind at all.

After a moment, Bucky shifts away and turns to grasp his glass again, slipping another piece of ice into his mouth, before turning back and continuing to kiss Steve, pressing the chilly cube against the blond’s lips until he had to part them and let Bucky slip it into his mouth.

They fight over the icy substance for a while, until the brunet had his arms securely wrapped around Steve’s neck, and the blond held onto his waist now, pulling the warm body against him as tightly as he could.

The cube had melted away now, leaving their chilled lips and tongues play with each other, up until Steve’s hand slips beneath Bucky’s jacket and shirt, making the brunet gasp and pull away for a bit, breathing harshly.

His eyes were completely dark now, and Steve could tell there was some form of inner conflict going within him right now.

Steve loosens his hold, allowing the brunet to sprint away if he wanted to.

Bucky doesn’t move however, just examines Steve’s face quietly.

The brunet gazes at him quiet for a while, and his eyes start to turn a bit anxious. It was clear to Steve he was a little unsure on what had just happened and why he’d done it. For his relief though, Bucky does not panic or sprint away as the man eventually just sighs and rubs his eyes with almost a sad smile.

”....I did _not_ really come here in hopes of doing that.”

The brunet finally comments with a slight uneven chuckle, and the blond smiles at him, unable to stop himself.

”Neither did I. Jesus you’re good at the whole seduction thing.”

Bucky ducks his head a bit as his cheeks gain color, and he rubs his neck awkwardly.

”Had practice.” He mumbles, almost bashful now.

”....Was that something you’d wanted to do for a while now, or are you just extremely drunk?” Steve asks hesitantly after a moment while sitting in place, too afraid to really move an inch; he felt like if he’d just lift his finger, Bucky would bolt and leave him slumped there awkwardly, his face flushed from their earlier shenanigans.

”Well, I am _definitely **not**_ drunk enough to just go smooching random people - don’t give me that look, it’s true - I guess it’s the former.”

His quiet, hesitant confession made Steve’s heart flutter a bit, and he licks his lips nervously: his mouth felt awfully dry and he was surprised he actually managed to get the words out.

”I suppose I’m glad I’m not the only one then.”

The blue eyes snap at Steve instantly as Bucky hears that, and he gives Steve a questioning look.

”I...don’t know. This whole time we’ve known each other, I’ve felt a little...you know.”

Steve rubs his neck, his face gaining color pretty badly and feeling equally bashful to Bucky.

”Sam _did_ say that I probably have a crush, though I never thought you’d return it.”

The blond admits after a moment of silence.

Bucky stares at him for a moment, then bursts into laughter, rolling off Steve and startling him in the process.

Steve looks at him irritated now, not understanding why he was laughing.

”Sam said the _same_ thing to me.”

He finally manages to comment between cackles, and Steve’s heart skips a beat upon hearing that.

”He did?”

”Yeah. I mean, it was obvious to me. I’ve been infatuated towards people this quickly before.”

Bucky shrugs as he sits up properly and flashes a slight smile at Steve, thought it was shaky from the edges.

”...Is that bad?” Steve asks now, slight worry gripping his heart.

The brunet turns quiet and gazes ahead for a long moment.

”It can be. I’ve...let’s just say last time didn’t end well.”

The blond sighs, brushing trough his hair; he did not really know what to say right now.

”I’m not saying you are like the last guy; you’re nothing like that asshole Brock. I just...”

the brunet goes quiet, and closes his eyes with a frown.

”Then we should probably take it easy for now; we can still be friends, right?”

Steve knew that after what just happened, being just ’friends’ could prove difficult, but he could see the deep frown on Bucky’s face, the unease he was feeling about this whole thing. He didn’t want to screw things up by being impatient. After a moment of silence, the brunet hums and turns to look at him.

”I suppose. I like spending time with you, m’just not sure if I wanna continue doing...you know, that just yet.”

His voice was uneven, and the man clearly had doubts about it himself, but Steve was ready to give him time with this. Even if it meant he’d probably have to suffer trough more of those awkward dreams.

 

 

The next few weeks Bucky joined him on their running trips again, and they chatted about random things like before.

The brunet opened up more about his family, informing Steve that he had a little sister named Rebecca, who’d recently gotten married.

”Outgrowing her big brother, I swear; she makes me feel like a kid.”

Bucky chuckles as he recalls their last meeting with her and her husband.

They did not touch upon the name mentioned during the bar evening, and Steve could tell talking about it was hard for Bucky. Each time they edged towards the subject, the brunet would grow tense until he barely said a word, so Steve had to direct their discussion elsewhere.

There was also this _other_ lingering tension between them.

At times Bucky would just look at him in a way that made Steve’s face gain color, and his entire body feel a little heated.

There were also those awkward brushes of skin at times when Bucky wandered too close to him as they walked, or if he handed Steve something. It was starting to get a little unbearable for the blond man.

Especially now that the weather had warmed, and Bucky was forced to wear less clothing, to the point he had to be shirtless at times after their run, just basking in the sun with all of his muscled glory, and it was really hard for Steve not to gape at him.

Then again, Bucky was clearly doing the same with him, though each time Steve would look at him, the man would turn his gaze away.

On the plus side though, neither he or Bucky no longer bothered with the group meetings, finding greater comfort in each other.

Steve had finally opened up about his own experiences, how he’d lost a lot of men during a mission, being the only survivor of a roadside bomb. Bucky had said nothing as the blond had started to shiver lightly, tears prickling his eyes as guilt washed over the man. He’d just gently tugged Steve into a hug, and held him there until his shirt had been soaked with saltwater.

Things were like this for a while; both of them comforting each other, ghosting around and waiting, unsure on if they should take a step forward or leave it be.

Steve was ready, honestly, more than ready; he could not recall ever feeling so strongly about something regarding to his bond with another person, but he could see the unease in Bucky’s eyes every time he got too close outside comforting hugs. It made him think whatever happened with this Brock was more serious than Steve initially thought.

He soon found out what it was, as on one warm morning, they ended up running across the very guy Bucky wasn’t keen on talking about.

”You already found a replacement? You rebound fast.”

The two turn to look at the scruffy stranger, whose smirk made Steve think of a wolf of sorts, eyeing it’s prey.

Bucky went stiff at first, then glares at the man with such hostility that it made his earlier iffiness towards Steve look like child’s play.

”What do you want?”

He spats at the man, who just chuckles and paces towards them relaxed, hands in his pockets.

”Chill, sweetheart; I heard you were back in town so I got curious.”

Steve wants to step between them, but a glance from Bucky rooted him in his place. The brunet just keeps his glare at the scruffy man, who stops in front of him, examining Bucky from head to toe. Steve did not like the sweeping gaze he was giving, it felt too private, and even Bucky seemed mildly disgusted by it.

”Gotta say, you look good despite getting your arm blown off.”

The purring tone the man used sent unpleasant chills down Steve’s spine, but he still remained quiet, just glaring at the man. If he tried anything the blond would step in, but for now things seemed to be under control.

”That’s _not_ what you told me back then.”

Bucky hisses at him lowly, but Brock doesn’t seem bothered by it, shrugging lightly.

”I suppose the new arm fixed it. You gotta admit you looked pretty hideous, missing a limb and scarred to your side.”

He glances at Steve, flashing a smirk at him.

”James woulda not look himself in the mirror, thought he was ugly to look at. I only agreed with it.”

The blond frowns at that, not liking the implications of Brock’s words.

”And whose fault was it that I thought so?”

The brunet snaps at Brock, his voice inching towards a growl.

”No need to get so hostile. I just spoke my mind.”

The man shrugs, then grins at him.

”I’d definitely fuck you now though.”

Steve cannot stop himself; the second he hears those words, he moves and punches Brock in the face, sending him stumbling back to the ground. The man holds his bloodied nose and glares up at Steve annoyed.

”The hell was that for?”

”Leave.” The blond just growls at him, sensing how uncomfortable Bucky was behind him right now.

Brock climbs off the ground and brushes the dust off, seemingly unaffected by the harsh hit.

”I see how it is; if I were you, blondie, I would not stick around for him for long; James has a habit of fucking things up between people.”

The man lets out a cold laugh, before rubbing his bleeding nose again and heading out, leaving the two stand in there in silence.

 

”What a creep, I can see why you dumped him...”

Steve mutters out, but as he turns to look at Bucky, the man had gone pale and was shaking a little.

”Hey, what’s wrong?”

Steve asks now concerned, and Bucky sort of collapses against him, his breathing harsh as he hides his face against Steve’s chest. For a moment they just stand there, with Steve gently rubbing his back, until Bucky manages to calm down enough and lift his gaze a bit to look up at Steve. His eyes were wide, and he was clutching the canvas of Steve’s shirt so tightly the man worried it would break under his grip.

Whatever it was about Brock’s words, it had clearly triggered Bucky somehow.

”Come on; lets drop by my place so you can take a shower or so.”

The brunet says nothing, just allows Steve to escort him to his apartment.

The blond waits as Bucky takes his time. He probably needed a shower too, but he was too concerned for Bucky.

Once the brunet comes out, Steve notes he’d already dressed up there, and had even tugged his hoodie on that he’d originally removed as the weather had gotten warmer during their run.

It was an alarming sign, as normally the brunet did not mind Steve seeing him half-naked.

The brunet slumps to the couch, but keeps his distance from Steve. For a moment they both sit there in silence, until the blond finally gathers his courage to ask Bucky what was going on.

”I swear. I thought I was done being triggered by that bastard.”

The brunet mutters as he curls up to himself, not looking at Steve. The blond scoots closer and hesitantly places a hand on Bucky’s flesh shoulder. The man stiffens at first, but then relaxes a bit, indicating it was okay for Steve to do this.

”We met when I first enrolled in the army. Was taken the moment we first spoke.”

Bucky begins, his voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

”I was...naive still, back then. Thought he was cool with his tough attitude and all. My ma and sis did not like him, but I didn’t get it at first.”

Steve remains quiet, just gently rubs Bucky’s shoulder, making the main sigh lightly.

”He was always...kind of demanding. Wanted things to be done his way. At first I didn’t mind as I just wanted him to be happy. But over time...”

the brunet’s voice gets shaky, and he eventually shifts to lean against Steve, who wraps an arm around the brunet gently.

”I could barely do anything without him having to know what I was doing and with whom. He did not want me to go to this mission, because he had no way of knowing what I did there. I thought he was just concerned, but it’s clear to me now he was just being jealous, thinking I’d flirt with other people there.”

”That’s...stupid. I cannot imagine anybody do that in the army. Especially not if you are on mission.”

”I know.”

Bucky sighs, rubbing his eyes and resting his head on Steve’s shoulder for a moment.

”Once I came back armless, he was really pissy. I thought he was mad at me for nearly getting myself killed, but it soon turned out he was mad ’cause I was no longer attractive in his eyes. He could not gloat to his pals about having a ’pretty boyfriend.”

The venom in Bucky’s tone was obvious, and Steve squeezed him lightly, wanting to go and find Brock again to punch his face the second time.

”That last two months were the shittiest time of my life. Every time we went out, he’d mock and make fun of me in front of his friends, and openly flirt with others. He’d even force me to walk home while he went on ahead with some random guy or gal he picked up.”

Steve shifts and holds him closer, trying his hardest to quench his anger; Bucky did not need him getting angry right now.

”Eventually he just kicked me out, saying it was over. That was around the time Stark picked me up for his project.”

”I suppose something good came out of that.”

The brunet hums, nuzzling against Steve’s chest lightly. It made the blond’s heartbeat pick up, but he remained still.

”You know, once I showed up on TV, defending Stark and his tech, he contacted me again.”

”Why?”

”Said he was sorry, and that he didn’t mean to get so angry at me or whatever. Tony was the one who told me _not_ to bother with him; he’d been trough an abusive relationship himself, and he’d instantly recognized the signs from what I told him.”

”So did you listen?”

”I almost didn’t; but Stark’s current girlfriend finally managed to convince me to not go and see Brock. He was pretty upset about it, sending me tons of woe-is-me or guilt-trip messages, until I had to block his number.”

Steve hums, brushing the brown locks absent minded.

”He did show up at my apartment once too, though. Was real adamant on getting inside, he even got violent. Cops had to be called.”

Steve frowns at that.

”Did you get a restraining order?”

”Yeah, but I did also move away for a while just in case.”

”Why did you come back?”

”Because....”

The brunet pauses and gazes into thin air for a moment, clearly contemplating his answer.

”Because New York’s home. Brooklyn is my home, always will be.”

He finally comments softly, and Steve could understand that sentiment. He was born in Brooklyn too, and it had always been hard for him to leave.

”You should probably inform the police that he broke his restraining order.”

The brunet hums with a shrug, and looks up at Steve.

”No point. He didn’t actually do anything, and you could get in trouble for punching him.”

Steve did not exactly agree with that logic, but he did not want to argue with Bucky about this right now, given how shaken the man still was, so he chooses to remain quiet about it. The brunet lies his head against Steve’s chest, most of his trembling subsided.

They just remain there for a moment, cuddled up on each other’s lap.

Then, Steve feels the brunet lift his head and look up at him.

His expression was unreadable, but somehow Steve knew what he wanted.

The blond leans closer, giving the man a chaste kiss. Before he can pull away however Bucky’s metal hand grasps the back of his neck, forcing him to stay still as the brunet kisses him properly. Once they part, Steve’s lips tingle and he gazes at Bucky breathless, a little surprised by the gesture.

”I thought you wanted to take it easy.” He finally manages to comment with a slight smile.

Bucky gazes at him quietly, then sighs and smiles back.

”It’s hard when it comes that cute dope face of yours.” He teases, gaining an eye roll from Steve.

”You’re something else, I give you that, Barnes.”

”Likewise, Rogers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo yeah.  
> More fluff, bit of angst, and stuff.  
> I legit don't have much to say here.


	5. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some more shit happens, Bucky finally decides he wants to accept his feelings towards Steve

After that brief incident with running into Bucky’s ex, things went mostly back to normal.

Well, as normal as one could feel in a situation where Steve wasn’t sure _what_ to call their relationship.

They were mostly casual towards one another like friends would be, but at times Bucky would get a bit more affectionate that clearly broke the boundaries of friendship.

They hadn’t kissed again since; Steve really desperately wanted to, but was too scared to try and do it.

He did not want to mess this up somehow.

Bucky would at times join him to the gym, thought he’d never really do much, as his artificial limb would probably break the equipment there. Some people gave the man curious glances, wondering why he came there yet never did anything, but no one ever came to ask him about it. Steve found it extremely distracting now, knowing those blue eyes were focused on him when they were there.

He was barely able to move around without fumbling with whatever he was holding, or tripping to his own feet.

At times when he glanced at the brunet, he’d notice the way the man licked his lips briefly, eyes filled with a certain kind of satisfaction; he especially did that when Steve was shirtless, clearly enjoying the sight.

The second he realized Steve was looking however, Bucky would cast his gaze aside immediately, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

This made Steve wonder, what exactly had occurred with him and Brock, outside what Bucky had told him.

The man was clearly attracted to Steve, but something held him back.

Part of him wanted to ask Bucky about it, but given the man had already shared quite a bit, Steve doubted he was willing to explain it more in detail. Sam probably knew the extend of it too, but the blond knew he was not allowed to speak about it, and probably wouldn’t even if he could.

All these thoughts buzzed in Steve’s head as he tugged on a fresh shirt on the gym locker-room after showering quickly to rid himself of the excess sweat. Bucky was waiting for him at the lounge, and nodded towards a nearby food-joint without a word.

As if agreeing with his assessment, Steve’s stomach growls loudly, making him flush lightly.

Bucky just rolls his eyes at that, and they head for the sandwich bar.

The food was pretty good, but Steve still found it hard to focus given the way Bucky was looking at him at times. There was a delicious looking BLT-sandwich in front of the brunet, but he had not touched it yet, too focused on looking at Steve.

Eventually, the blond puts his sandwich down to ask what was wrong, when the brunet suddenly leans closer over the table, and flicks his tongue over the corner of Steve’s lips, wiping away some mayo stuck in there.

The man halts and just stares at Bucky, who gives him a playful wink as he leans back and finally starts to eat his food.

”Am I really that distracting?” The brunet purrs after a moment, as Steve had kept gaping at him for quite a long time.

Steve shakes his head and rubs his neck now mildly irritated.

”Are you doing it on purpose?”

Bucky just hums and drinks his soda trough the straw, glancing at Steve as he did so, and the blond has to turn his gaze away blushing, thanks to the mental images that look now gave him. Bucky hums after a moment, and as Steve glances at the man his gaze was now almost melancholic.

”M’sorry; don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just...it’s been a while I’ve had somebody react to me like that.”

”Hard to imagine, given how you look.”

Steve blurts out before he can stop himself, and Bucky laughs a bit at that, poking his nose with the straw.

”Somebody whom I actually _like._ ”

The man clarifies with a light smile.

That made Steve’s heart jump in slight joy.

”Then why...I mean...”

Steve was not quite sure how to ask it, let alone what exactly he wanted to ask. The brunet seems to catch on though and sighs, leaning back in his chair.

”Told you; last time I felt like this, I got screwed over the second I wasn’t pretty as a picture.”

”That’s not all is it?”

Steve asks softly after a moment, and he could see the way Bucky’s body tenses, and the man shifts uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to discuss this. For Steve’s surprise however, the man responds to his question.

”It’s the arm. I just...”

He nods lightly towards Steve, and the man brushes over the spot the bruising had been.

”I’m...honestly kind of scared to touch you because of it.”

Bucky confesses, rubbing his head looking almost embarrassed.

”You did fine with it earlier.” Steve points out with a smile.

”I know, but I’ve always been conscious about it, ever since I learned what the thing can do. What if I...”

Bucky swallows down hard, now rubbing the metallic wrist again, it was clear he was getting more and more anxious by the minute.

With a sigh, Steve gets up and walks to sit down beside him, grasping the said hand into his. The man removes the black glove covering it, and slowly lifts the hand to gently kiss the cool fingers.

Bucky could barely feel that touch, but he could see it clearly.

”I am sure you are capable of gentleness with this. I know it first hand.”

”I almost broke your neck with it...”

”But you did not, I’m still alive.” Steve whispers softly, bringing the hand between them, still holding it gently while his thumb traced the ridge of one of the platings in Bucky’s palm.

”I understand why you are cautious with this, but....I trust you.”

Steve lifts his gaze slowly to look at Bucky, who just gazes back at him with wide eyes, clearly unsure on what to say right now.

Slowly, Steve lifts the hand to press it against his cheek.

It felt cold, but it did not really bother the blond man the slightest.

After a moment, the fingers flexed slightly, and Bucky brushes them against Steve’s skin as gently as he could.

”See what I mean?”

After a moment, Steve drops his hand and just lets Bucky touch his face with the metal fingers. He’s hesitant at first, but eventually the cool touch traces away from his cheek, down his jawline and onto his lips, swiping a thumb over them. The blond man parts his lips lightly under the touch, and he could see the way Bucky’s eyes darkened for a second as he watched him intently.

What felt like a moment too soon, the brunet drops his hand and shifts back to finish his meal now, avoiding looking at Steve directly.

The man just watches him quietly for a moment, before sighing and going back to sit at the opposite side of the table.

 

 

 

The itching feeling at the back of Steve’s mind does not go away. In fact, the more time he spent with Bucky Barnes, the worse it got.

He could not quite recall a time where he’d felt this taken by somebody, and yet the same time felt so bloody scared of taking the next step.

The story about Bucky’s previous relationship and it’s shitty end haunted his brain, and Steve worried he’d just end up doing the same.

Of course, he knew he wouldn’t; the man did not find Bucky attractive just for his looks. Bucky was genuinely pleasant to spend time with, and his smile could melt icebergs once it was genuine enough.

”You really have it bad, man.”

Sam comments with an amused smile; they were currently sitting in Wilson’s living room, as Steve had dropped by for an impromptu visit.

Steve sighs and drinks from his beer can, probably looking like a lost puppy as he stared the floor.

”I don’t know. I just...he’s brilliant, and I mean it in every sense of the word, but...”

”Hey, I get it; with checkered romantic past like his, it’s kind of understandable you worry.”

Sam reassures him, rubbing the man’s shoulder.

”It’s...kind of stupid, really. I know I’m not like Brock, but I still fear he’ll end up seeing me like that.”

”Doubt that; the worst thing he’s said about you was that your shoulder-to-waist ratio is ridiculous.”

That punches out a small laugh from Steve, and Sam flashes him a victorious smirk.

”I do think you two should talk this out though; I can tell it bothers you, and probably him as well.” Sam states after a momentary pause, his voice now serious.

Steve sighs and nods faintly, knowing that Wilson was probably right; dancing around this subject did not do either of them any favors.

 

 

Steve looked up at Bucky’s apartment complex.

He suddenly felt unsure about doing this; what if he’d end up ruining the friendship they’d achieved? Then again, letting things linger between them like this... it could be disastrous too. With a sigh, the blond man enters the building and walks to Bucky’s door. He knocks, but no one answers. The man starts to wonder if Bucky was even home. Then, the door suddenly opens, and Steve is greeted with a weary, and alarmingly injured face of the brunet.

”Holy...are you okay?”

Steve questions as his eyes widen, but the man just shakes his head, letting Steve in.

The apartment seemed fine, so whatever had happened, did not happen in there.

”M’good.”

Bucky mutters as he closes the door, turning to look at Steve again. He had a black eye, and there was a cut on his left cheek.

He looked like he’d been on a fight.

”Bucky....”

”Had a run-in with Brock again. That all.”

He was clearly dismissing the subject quickly to avoid talking about it. Except, mentioning that name just spurred Steve’s concern further.

”He did that?”

He asks, brushing a hand against the cut cheek almost angry.

”It’s a minor injury compared to the punch I scored in his face.”

Steve gives him a pointed look, then nods towards the first aid-kit on the table, as well as the dirty bandages and handkerchiefs with dried blood on them.

”Somehow I doubt your face is the only part that’s injured.”

He further strengthens the point by looking at the way Bucky was clutching his human arm against his chest. Even looking at the shirt he wore, it was clear he’d thrown it on haphazardly. For a moment the brunet just stares at him, then finally gives in with a sigh and reluctantly tugs the shirt over his head, revealing the bruising and a nasty slash-wound on his torso.

It wasn’t very deep, but looked uncomfortable, and based on the smudging on the inside of the shirt, he’d been trying to clean it up when Steve had ringed his doorbell.

”Sit down, let me do this.”

The brunet doesn’t argue and lets Steve treat the wound, probably because he knew it would be easier that way, and he was honestly too tired to cause a ruckus over it. The blond could not stop noticing however, how unusually stiff Bucky was; it almost felt like he did not like Steve touching him right now, and was half-expecting him to pull a knife on him or something.

It was weird.

”What did he do?”

The blond man asks as he uses anti-spetic to clean the wound, before stitching it closed.

”Wanted me ta join him and his goons for a drink. I said no, he didn’t take it well.”

Steve could tell that wasn’t all of it.

”You need to inform the law enforcement about this. He is breaking his restraining order.”

Bucky huffs, then rubs his eyes with a sigh.

”I know I should. It’s just that...he can turn this against me, cause I hit him.”

”You were just defending yourself.”

”I hit him first.”

”Still. He is breaking the restraining order.”

Steve presses on, glancing up at Bucky and noticing how uneasy he was. The man seemed almost terrified of the prospect of informing the police about this, which Steve could not understand.

”Bucky...are you scared of him?”

Steve’s cautious question takes Bucky completely by surprise, and he just stares down at Steve with his mouth hanging open, clearly at a loss of words.

”It’s just...I don’t get why you are so reluctant to inform the people handling this thing about him breaking the rules.”

Bucky closes his mouth and remains quiet for a long moment.

”I just...don’t want another media shit-storm.”

He comments tiredly after a moment. Steve could somewhat understand that reasoning, but he also knew it was bullshit. After finishing up patching the man, Steve brings the first aid kit back to the bathroom, while Bucky tugs on a now fresh shirt, throwing the bloodied one into the trash. This gesture surprises Steve a little, as he was fairly sure you could get bloodstains off from clothes.

”It was an old shirt anyway.”

Bucky muses, avoiding his gaze.

Steve paces to him cautious, noticing how tense Bucky’s body language was. As he reaches for the man’s shoulder, he near flinches and backs away with a suspicious look. It was such a bizarre reaction, that the blond was frozen in place, just looking at Bucky with a stunned gaze. Eventually though, he manages to regain his composure, and looks at the brunet with a frown.

”You know...I came here wanting to talk about something, but I’m not sure if this is a good time.”

”I’m sorry, I know I’m acting weird...” the brunet mumbles, rubbing his metal wrist while keeping his gaze to the floor.

They just stand there in awkward silence, until Bucky finally moves and walks to his fridge, grabbing himself a drink.

Steve watches worried as the brunet drinks down the beer bottle almost all at once, then slams it to the table, just staring into the thin air for a moment.

”I just...I feel kind of disgusted with myself right now.”

”Why?”

Steve half-expects Bucky to not answer his question, but the brunet hums, still gazing into thin air for a second before his voice breaks the tense silence again.

”I know I shouldn’t have lost my marbles; he wanted me to get mad. I couldn’t help it.”

He sighs and turns to look at Steve with that same, mentally exhausted look he often wore. Though now it was worse than ever.

”I hate the fact that even after so many years, he can still manipulate me.”

Steve could understand that full-heartedly, but it did not explain everything.

”Why did you....flinch when I...I mean, you should know I’m not gonna do anything, right?”

The blond huffs frustrated, rubbing his head. He really didn’t know exactly how to word his question. Bucky rubs his arm, looking uneasy.

”It...was a reflex. I get jumpy after a fight. You should know that, you have similar issues probably.”

Right, it made sense; Steve could admit if he got an adrenaline rush, he would end up being a little twitchy and easily spooked like that.

Still though....

”I know. It’s just... it rather felt like you didn’t want me to touch you, than you generally feeling tense.”

The brunet remains quiet, avoiding his gaze pointedly. Steve takes a few steps forward, and the blue eyes turn at him sharply, making Bucky back away against the sink. He was pretty much cornered now, and Steve decided to stop from a meter away from Bucky, noticing how the man began to look like he’d smack Steve if he came any closer. Something was badly wrong.

”Bucky....”

He keeps his tone gentle, keeping his hands to his sides to appear as non-threatening as possible; whatever had happened, it was clear Bucky felt like an anxious wild animal right now, and cornering him like this could end up being a bad idea.

The man grasps the edge of the table behind him, eyes glued to Steve, following his every move now. Steve could recognize his behavior somewhat from his own experiences; something was triggering his traumas, causing the man to be on the edge. The blond decides to back away again just in case giving Bucky more room to breathe.

He was regretting his course of action right now, noticing how Bucky’s breathing was getting faster.

It was as if he was heading for a panic attack.

”You know I mean no harm, right? I am just concerned for you.”

Steve states quietly, staying rooted in his place at the other end of the counter now, leaving at least two meters between them. The silence stretches out, but finally Bucky huffs out a sigh and takes in a deep breath, clearly trying to relax himself.

”I know. I’m....sorry. Didn’t mean to start freaking out on you or anything...”

”...Then please tell me what happened, so I can avoid doing it in the future.”

Bucky remains quiet, keeping his eyes closed for a while.

”I was just...coming back from a walk. He showed up.”

”What did he do?”

It was clear from the way Bucky bit his lip and looked rather disgusted, that he did not like whatever had happened.

”Got into my personal space n’ all without permission. Tried ta kiss me so I socked him in the jaw. The bastard pulled a knife on me, landing that scratch and the cut on my cheek you saw before I broke it.”

Steve had to admit; he kind of wanted to punch the man too now for that.

”I know, I’m making it sound worse than it was, but...”

”Hey, you had every right to be uncomfortable and angry about that; you did not give him permission to get into your personal bubble.” Steve reminds him, his voice sharp.

”I know...I just...”

This is when Steve slowly moves closer, making sure Bucky saw what he was doing. The man tenses again a bit, but allows Steve to gently grasp his shoulder.

”Did anybody see it?”

”No. We were on this quieter part of the park.”

”Then you need to tell the police about this.”

He could tell Bucky was reluctant about the idea, and Steve really wished to know why. He did not buy the bullshit-explanation about getting in trouble himself the man had told him for a second. The blond carefully turns the man towards him, now grasping both of the shoulders, still a little taken aback by the difference in temperature and texture under his palms.

”Whatever it is that is stopping you from doing it, don’t listen to that part of your mind. You need to talk about this; he practically assaulted you!”

”And I broke his jaw. I say we are even.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. As much as he wanted to be upset at Bucky, he knew from experience that you did not solve things like this by yelling. His close-ones had had to deal with Steve’s more closed-up personality after his ordeal, and he knew that for somebody with traumas, it could be...hard to admit your need for help and go get it.

However...Steve felt this was more than what he dealt with.

”Bucky...”

He cautiously slides his hand up to cup the stubbled cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Bucky stiffens under the touch at first, but forces his body to relax after a moment.

”Please. Go talk to the police about this.”

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Eventually, the brunet sighs and nods a bit.

”Okay.”

He sounded reluctant, but Steve smiled nevertheless. He could not be sure that the man would actually do it, but at least he’d try to bring himself to do it. Steve moves to slip his hands away from the man’s shoulders, but Bucky’s metallic fingers close around his wrist firmly, and Steve looks up st the man confused.

”I...uh...can I ask you a favor?”

The brunet mumbles, sounding almost embarrassed as he looked away from Steve. The man just nods faintly, giving Bucky a questionable look.

”I kind of want his taste off my mouth, so could you....?”

Steve could not deny it, his heart fluttered a little as he realized what Bucky was asking him to do.

Cautiously, he steps closer and cups Bucky’s cheek gently. The man doesn’t flinch this time and just watches him as he leans closer hesitantly.

The kiss is brief, but it warms Steve’s insides throughout.

”I’m sorry for asking that.”

Bucky mutters once they separate, and Steve looks at him with lift eyebrow.

”This whole thing between us is...kind of vague. That’s why you came to talk to me, right?”

Steve could not stop but nod, his hand still on Bucky’s cheek.

”It’s not that I don’t want to, I just...”

The blond man sighs and slips his hand to Bucky’s shoulder instead.

”You have a lot of demons to work trough inside your head, I understand.”

The brunet keeps his gaze to his feet, looking extremely guilty.

Steve hated that; Bucky had _no_ reason to feel guilty.

As much as this uncertainty frustrated Steve, he understood it.

”No, really; I mean it.”

Bucky insists, as if worried that Steve had not believed what he’d implied earlier.

”I...like you a lot, Steve. I just...you got your own mess to deal with, I don’t wanna add to it.”

The blond man sighs and shakes his head, slipping his hands down to hold onto Bucky’s. He suddenly began to understand why his friends seemed kind of frustrated with him when he refused to share his problems with them when they wanted to help or comfort him.

”You’ve never done that. It’s always been the opposite; you make it easier.” He smiles a bit, and then turns serious before Bucky could say anything.

He had to say this now, just so that the brunet knew about it.

”That being said, I understand why you’re hesitant about this whole thing, so I won’t push you if....if you’re not ready. Just promise me, that you go and talk to the police, okay?”

Steve squeezes his hands gently, as he spoke.

After a moment, the brunet nods. Steve smiles, although it felt forced. Patience was not his strong point, but when it came to this, he had to be patient if he didn’t want to screw things up with Bucky. He had to wait until the man felt comfortable enough to even consider a new relationship like that.

 

 

 

Couple more days pass, and this time, Steve did not get the chance to see Bucky at all; he’d been too busy being dragged into helping his friend Clint with his move into a new apartment. Natasha had signed him up without informing Steve about it beforehand, so the woman had practically dragged him there by his ear early in the morning while the blond had no clue what was going on.

While helping to move the larger boxes, Steve’s mind kept drifting back to Bucky, wondering if he had gone to the police or not.

Part of him worried that Bucky would not be able to bring himself to do it on his own, but other part wanted to trust in the man’s promise that he’d get it done.

”Steve, you in there?”

Natasha waves a hand in front of his eyes, and Steve suddenly realizes he’d been standing at that spot, leaning against a large pile of boxes for a minute or so.

”Sorry Nat, I was just thinking...”

”About your jogging buddy?”

She asks with a mischievous grin, gaining a slight blush from the blond man, who glances aside, rubbing his head.

”M’just a little worried. He got into a brawl with his ex boyfriend couple days ago, and since the guy has a restraining order, I told him he should go tell the law enforcement about it.”

”....You worry he hasn’t.”

Natasha concludes within few seconds and crosses her arms with a frown.

”I don’t know. He seemed reluctant to do it for some reason.”

The woman hums, brushing trough her hair.

She then turns towards Clint, who’d nearly dropped a box labeled ’breakable stuff’ and rolls her eyes at the man.

”Well...did he tell you anything regarding to their past relationship?”

”Not much, other than his ex was kind of controlling, and a bit vain too.”

The blond man frowns, as he recalls the bits and pieces Bucky had mentioned, as well as his behavior.

”It was weird; he seemed almost...scared to go and report him.”

”....You might have to coax him to go then.”

The man looks down at her, noticing that Natasha’s expression was that of concern now. She was probably getting more out of the few words and events Steve described her than he had.

”It is not...uncommon for a person who’s been in an abusive relationship to find it hard to report the abuser.”

”But it’s been years, since; he did even get a restraining order!”

”I wonder...did somebody coax him back then too?”

Steve turns quiet; Bucky had mentioned that the reason Rumlow had gotten a restraining order was because he’d showed up in his house and gotten violent. Bucky had never said _he’d_ been the one who called.

It had not been him specifically who’d decided to push Brock out of his life on his own; he’d been told to do so by somebody.

”I am not so sure if your friend has truly faced and overcome this particular demon yet.”

Steve felt worry grip his heart, and he looks at Natasha, who just nods faintly.

”Go ahead; Clint and I can finish this by ourselves.”

The sand haired man looks up just as Steve sprints out of the door, looking confused.

”Where’s he going?”

”Playing a knight in shining armor.” Natasha comments simply, then opens a box to start putting the stuff in it to the shelves, without offering Clint any further explanation.

 

 

 

As Steve reaches Bucky’s house, horror grasps his throat; there was a police-car at the front.

The man slows his pace to a walk as he walks closer, spotting one of Bucky’s neighbors, a blond young woman.

”Excuse me miss? What is going on here?”

The lady turns to look at him, then back at the police car.

”There was a fight in one of the apartments. They arrested one man and the other is still being questioned by the police.”

Steve felt his mouth run dry.

”The man whom they are talking to...is he a resident?”

”Yes; Mr. Barnes from the third floor.”

Steve thanks the lady as he sprints inside, calling out for Bucky.

Before he can enter into the man’s apartment, a police officer stops him, asking what he was doing there.

”The resident of this apartment is a friend of mine.”

He explains, feeling frustrated that the officer would not let him enter.

”I cannot let you in, sir; he’s being questioned about what happened right now, you need to wait.”

Steve wanted to shake the officer and tell him to let him trough, but Steve knew better than to get aggressive towards a police officer, so instead he walks back out and sits to a bench next to the door, rubbing his eyes as he waited.

After what felt like hours but was only probably thirty minutes, two officers step out of the house, Bucky on their tail.

He was a mess, his face bruised and having that caged expression on his face.

Steve stands up immediately and nearly stumbles over his feet, rushing to Bucky who turns to look at him with a tired expression.

The two officers attempt to stop him at first, but Bucky tells them that he indeed knew Steve, so they let him trough.

”What happened?”

”Brock. Came for a surprise visit again.”

”Why did you let him in?”

Steve huffs almost frustrated, and the brunet looks away a bit, clearly ashamed of himself right now.

”Bucky! I told you to go and talk to the police before something like this would happen!”

Steve grasps his shoulders, making the man flinch and back away, his expression spooked now. Steve instantly regrets his action, and forces his mind to calm down, slumping his hands to his sides instead. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

”I was gonna...he beat me to it.”

Steve was fairly sure Bucky was bullshitting him, but getting angry would not help with the situation one bit, so he just gestures back inside the house.

”Let’s just go and patch things up then. Unless the officers need you for something?”

”Nah. They took my testimony already. I gotta go to the station later though.”

Steve hums, and follows the man back inside. His apartment was bit of a mess; the coffee-table was flipped over, the couch was off it’s position, and a remote control was lying in pieces on the floor. Steve could even see some small bloodstains on the carpet. Bucky brings him the first aid kit without a word, and Steve checks trough his injuries again, including the older ones such as the cut on his torso.

It was bleeding slightly as some stitches had opened during the brawl. Steve sighs and gives the man a pointed look, but says nothing and fixes his injuries. Bucky remains quiet the whole time, looking kind of dazed.

”You need to be more careful; be glad this thing did not open up completely during your fight, it could get a lot worse.”

The brunet doesn’t answer, just sits there, gazing at Steve as he wraps a fresh bandage around the man’s torso to cover the slash. As the blond man looks up, he realizes that Bucky was now staring at him intently again, which was a little unnerving.

”Why did he even come here to cause trouble?”

Steve asks as he gets up, bringing the medical kit back to the bathroom. He felt Bucky’s gaze on him every step in the way.

”He was pissy about you.”

Steve lifts eyebrow as he walks back and sits down next to Bucky.

”Didn’t like the fact I seemed to be doing fine without him.”

”Has he been stalking you?” Steve asks, suddenly a little alarmed.

The brunet’s lips are on a tight line, and he nods faintly.

”Ever since we first ran into one another again.”

”This is why you needed to go to the police.” Steve tells him softly, trying his hardest to not start yelling.

”I know. I _wasn’t_ lying when I said he beat me to it!”

Bucky suddenly spats at Steve, and the man backs away lightly, surprised by the sudden outburst. The brunet glares at him, looking extremely irritated.

”I couldn’t go for the past few days cause I was visiting my sister, Rogers! I was gonna go after that, but he showed up on my door before I could!”

That did not exactly excuse it; Bucky could’ve gone before he went to see his family, but Steve chose not to argue about this right now, not when the metallic limb attached to the man was revving dangerously as Bucky clenched his fist.

”What did he say, then? Or did he just march in and punch you?”

”He said that you would not stick around for long once I’d go and hurt you with this...”

Bucky rubs his metallic wrist, suddenly anxious again.

Steve quickly reminds him that it had happened already, and he was still there.

”Told him as much. He laughed and said you had to be a moron to stay with a ticking time-bomb.”

”Well, I am known for being a bit reckless, but I doubt this qualifies as that.” Steve comments simply, feeling that there was more to what happened than that.

”He said that I should not waste my time with you, as I’d come crawling back to him, like...like before...”

Bucky’s voice began to shake as a mixture of anger and disgust starts to seep into his tone, and he had to close his eyes and grasp the couch beneath firmly, taking a deep breath to calm down. There was shame in his voice too.

”....Before...?”

The brunet remains quiet, then his shoulders slump as he leans his arms to his knees, staring at the floor.

”Before I got out, I...believed what he told me. That I was ugly, a worthless piece of shit who was lucky that he allowed me to stay in his place.”

”Bucky, that is...”

”I know that _now!_ I know what he said was bullshit! But then...my mind wasn’t exactly in the best place.”

The brunet huffs and rubs his eyes with his human fingers, before dropping his arm back down.

”It’s just...I still get that feeling. Like I have to be ’good’ so he won’t make me feel like crap. Even though I...I know his opinion doesn’t matter, I just...”

It was clear that Bucky was getting frustrated with himself, and Steve did not blame him; despite the long time since the brunet had been stuck with that asshole, Bucky’s scars hadn’t healed yet. Gently, he places a hand on Bucky’s back, and as he gets no objections, begins to rub it, feeling the tense muscles relax under his touch slowly.

”I should probably head to the station now, they are expecting me.”

The brunet mumbles, pushing Steve aside and heading for the door.

After a moment of hesitation, Steve decides to come with him. The brunet doesn’t object as Steve enters into his car, just keeps his gaze firmly on the road.

 

 

The police station visit was clearly not the most comfortable thing for Bucky.

Steve could tell the officers were suspicious towards him because of his arm, but luckily the neighboring blond lady had also been called in as a witness, and apparently vouched for Bucky that he was a good neighbor and very kind.

”He would not start a fight on purpose.”

She’d apparently told them, and while Steve could tell they were still suspicious, Bucky’s record compared to Rumlow’s did side with the brunet. The fact there had been a restraining order against the latter also helped to clear things up further, although they recommended Barnes to get in contact with the person who’d been handling his case to inform him about the occurrence, especially if he wanted to press charges.

Bucky had said nothing to that, clearly not eager to do so.

For now, Rumlow would be held in investigative custody, which could last anywhere from a day to several months.

Either way, Bucky was tense as they headed back towards his house.

”It’ll be fine. They have all the evidence needed against him. The fact he went against his restraining order too speaks volumes.”

”I know, I can’t help it.”

Bucky mutters curtly, rubbing his metallic wrist unconsciously. It seemed to be a nervous tick, alongside him biting or licking his lips.

”....Should I stay for the night?”

Bucky glances at him, then after a moment, nods faintly.

Once they enter Bucky’s apartment again, they firstly clean the mess left by the fight that they hadn’t bothered to touch before the station trip, and after that Steve ordered them some food, a pizza from a nearby place. The two ate in silence, and Steve kept examining Bucky’s face concerned. They were sitting on Bucky’s couch, and the brunet was staring at the Tv screen blankly, not really following the random sitcom that was on.

Bucky had also gotten them a couple of beers, and Steve had noted the man was currently drinking his third.

The pace Bucky drank at always concerned Steve; he was much more careful with his drinking, regardless of his mental state.

After another long moment of tense silence, Steve swallows down nervously, barely able to find his voice.

”Are you...alright?”

The brunet’s hand pauses, keeping the beer can near his lips.

Then, he lowers it down, alongside his gaze.

The man looked almost sad, like something big was bothering him that he didn’t quite know how to voice out. Almost if he feared Steve would judge him for it.

”That’s...why I’m hesitant to do this with you.”

The brunet confesses after a moment, and Steve blinks, confused about that statement. The last pizza slice on his plate was cold already, but Steve could tell Bucky was not going to eat it.

”I _know_ I can control my goddamn arm; Stark doesn’t make garbage tech. That thing that happened with you is actually pretty rare nowadays too, I just hate it how I...”

”....How your previous relationship still has a hold over you?”

Steve half-deduces, half-guesses what the brunet was trying to say. Bucky nods, swallowing down hardly. He did not bother to look up at Steve.

”It ain’t fair to you, Steve...”

”Life isn’t fair; I’ve learned that the hard way.”

The blond comments thoughtfully. Bucky remains quiet, so Steve continues his musings.

”I lost so many of my comrades back there. I keep wondering why they....why they had to go but I survived. It was down to luck, really. But I cannot stop putting the blame on myself.”

His voice shook a bit as he thought back on the men he’d lost.

”Know that feeling.” Bucky admits after a moment, and Steve couldn’t stop but smile a bit, even if it was sad.

”I suppose...life was harsher on you than me; at least when I got home, my friends were still there. The only person who...who you thought cared, didn’t.”

”Way to help my mood, Rogers.”

The brunet comments sarcastically, gaining a slight chuckle from Steve.

”I think....whenever this is ’fair’ to me or not, doesn’t really matter. You deserve better than what you got after the hell you went trough, and I’m...I’m willing to give you that, if you let me.”

The brunet remains quiet, his eyes firmly locked to the floor.

”I don’t really....how should I put this? I..it’s _okay_ , that you are still struggling with this. Some scars take ages to heal, some never do. You don’t have to...worry, or fear that I’d leave you over something like this. If anything, I want to stick around to make it better for you.”

The brunet finally looks up at him with a skeptic look.

Steve did not blame him; despite them knowing for months now, they’d always had this one invisible wall between them, a barrier that kept then from fully connecting with one another. Steve hated it.

”I’m pretty sure you’re frustrated even now over the fact I’m letting Brock get to me.”

”I am, but that’s only because I want you to be happy.”

Steve states firmly, grasping his shoulder now with a frown.

”You’re...one of the few, if not the only person I’ve ever opened up to properly. Even Sam doesn’t know all the stuff I’ve told you. And I know your demons, some of them anyway. I understand why you struggle.”

The blond man explains gently, grasping the human hand that was nearest to him, mingling his fingers with Bucky’s.

The brunet stares at their conjoined hands for a moment, like he did not know how to react.

”Just give me a chance, okay?”

Steve half-begs now; as much as he enjoyed their friendship, it was clear both of them wanted _more._

He could not keep going like this, not anymore.

The silence stretches out for so long, that Steve had enough time to become anxious. Next thing he knew, Bucky had tackled him against the couch, ignoring his injuries and kissing the blond with such ferocity it stole the breath out of Steve’s lungs. He brings his arms up to wrap them around Bucky and just hold the man firmly as he responded to the kiss.

His other hand slips up to the brown locks, massaging the brunet’s scalp a little, and Bucky lets out something akin to a purr against his lips as he feels it.

Eventually though, Bucky pushes back, looking down at him with widened eyes, as if he had not expected to do that. Before he could sprint away however, Steve tightens his grip around the man, reaching up for another, softer kiss.

”It’s okay. I really don’t care Bucky. I don’t. I just wanna be with you.”

The brunet remains tense above him, so Steve moves carefully, maneuvering them until Bucky was resting beside him, back turned towards the coffee table.

”You worry too much over that. It’s the last thing you should be fretting over.”

”It’s pathetic.”

”It’s _human_ , to struggle with letting go of some things. But you should.”

Steve starts caressing the long brown locks, noting that Bucky’s body relaxed almost involuntarily under his touch.

”So Brock can still piss you off and make you doubt yourself. That’s okay, that’s something we can work trough together.”

”I...”

Steve places a finger on his lips, giving him a stern look as he wasn’t finished.

”Don’t even start with the ’You have your own shit to deal with.’ Yeah, I do, but it’s been MUCH easier now that I’ve had you around. Let me do the same for you.”

They gaze at each other for a long while, two sets of blue eyes shining trough the dim lighting of the room. There was clearly hesitation in Bucky’s eyes, like he wasn’t sure how he should answer, or if he should say anything at all. Finally, Steve decides to try and help him answer.

He leans closer, pressing his lips softly against Bucky’s once again. He doesn’t move, just holds them there, until Bucky begins to respond.

Eventually, Steve could feel his cool metal fingers cup his cheek, and the brunet shifts to push him on his back, never breaking contact with his mouth. They trade kisses back and forth for a while, until Bucky slips his mouth away from Steve’s, trailing down his neck.

The reaction was instant, and Steve felt his whole body shiver at that touch like last time.

It was somehow worse now though, probably because they were lying down. For a moment, Bucky just rests his head against Steve, lips pressed against his skin while not really moving, before he finally shifts up slowly, looking down at Steve with a slight, uneasy smile. He was clearly still anxious about this, but really wanted to give Steve a chance.

”It’ll be okay.”

The blond tells him softly, brushing a thumb over his shaky lips, smiling back up at the man with all the warmth he could muster.

Bucky just releases a deep breath and nods, resting his head back down against Steve’s chest, listening to the heartbeat beneath his ear. The sound, alongside the fingers combing trough his hair, helped to soothe the brunet’s mind, up until he was completely relaxed under Steve’s touch.

The blond gazes up at the ceiling quietly, fingers still going trough the silky strands in slow motions. It was clear there would be a lot of hurdles they’d have to overcome, lot of issues to resolve, but it would be easier together than trying to struggle on your own like they both had been doing for so long now.

He couldn’t stop the small smile forming on his lips as he felt the brunet cuddle closer silently.

They’d be alright, Steve was fairly certain about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter  
> for nowwww  
> This one obviously has more potential, but right now I am too busy with school and other fandom fics to really create more story to this one.  
> Maybe someday, you'll never know


End file.
